


Things We Lost to the Flames

by russiansimp



Series: Zukka, but these dipshits are in the modern times [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AZULA REDEMPTION ARC!, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula ends up running the Zuko Protection Squad, Bisexual Sokka, Blue Spirit - Freeform, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, College AU, Depression, Fanboy Sokka, I will stop writing blue spirit zuko when I legally die, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In this Denny’s?, M/M, Modern AU, Modern AU - College, Modern AU- Bending, Modern Bending Au, PTSD, Projecting HARD, Scars, Self Loathing, The Author is Definately Projecting, Trauma, Vigilntes, Zuko’s Scar, after all she did in ch10, also, and Hakoda adopts zuko, and death, and they were ROOMMATES, arent I terrible, at some point, but be warned, do you understand me?, dont worry everyone who dies deserved it, eventual firelord zuko, gay Zuko, iroh adopts sokka, lots of death, modern college au, oh my god they were roommates?, the bitch is getting an arc, there will be blood - Freeform, these idiots are stupid, tw - abuse, yes you heard me, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 29,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiansimp/pseuds/russiansimp
Summary: Two things had been weighing on Sokka’s mind lately: the vigilante that had recently popped up, and his complicated feelings for his roommate.Aka modern college blue spirit au ft bending
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar) (Mentioned), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar) (Mentioned), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka, but these dipshits are in the modern times [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871533
Comments: 184
Kudos: 899





	1. Ten Things, Minus Three

**Author's Note:**

> Things:  
> Aang has not told anyone he’s the avatar, and Zuko gave up on chasing him to go into hiding  
> I’m keeping with my “no firebending = pent up aggression = fire outbursts”

The air in the room was heavy. Heavy from the heat, the noise, everything was too much right now. The air conditioner had broken three days ago and no one cared enough to fix it. It was all too similar to the feeling of smoke billowing through his nostrils, filling his lungs with poison. Zuko sometimes wondered how on earth he managed to relate everything back to his personal trauma. Perhaps it was selfishness, perhaps it was weakness. The broken a/c unit rumbled sadly by the window, every crackle and groan making him flinch. He had promised himself he was going to force himself to get some sleep tonight. More importantly, he had promised his roommate.

Sokka had always been keenly perceptive when it came to the quiet boy he shared a dorm with. Even after two years, he knew next to nothing about him. He shut down easily, and didn’t like to talk about himself. Even with those barriers, though, he thought he knew a good amount about him. Ten things, that he could name off the top of his head. One: he didn’t eat as much as he should have. When he did eat, it was nutritionally deficient, just enough to keep him going. And that only happened when he was hungry enough he actually noticed the aching in his stomach. Zuko was constantly absorbed in his work, and seemed to forget he was a human that had a stomach and that stomach needed food. Two: also due to how much he overworked himself, he hardly ever slept. Sometimes, he’d be working by candlelight into the early morning, other nights, Sokka would wake up and he was nowhere to be found. He seemed to only sleep when his body forced him to. It was why he’d forced him to promise to sleep. He didn’t know that Zuko would spend the night twitching, rolling around, flinching at each and every noise. Perhaps he would have encouraged him to just go do what he pleases. Three: he was pretty sure the guy had gotten bullied, or something to that tune. Any time Sokka raised his hand, the other boy flinched, holding his hands up to block an impending punch or backhand. He didn’t allow any physical contact, which was tough for a guy who hugged literally all of his friends. Four: he didn’t want to talk about his scar. Sokka had only brought it up three times since they had met. The first time, it was met with anger. The second, Zuko avoided him for weeks. And most recently, he had just burst into tears. Five: he had a girlfriend, kind of. He had only met Mai a few times. He’d learned from someone they were only dating to please their respective parents, that Mai was really a raging lesbian dating a girl from the circus an hour north, and they’d had this charade going on for seven years. On that note, six: he hated his father. He refused to talk about him, other than occasionally calling him an asshole. But, it wasn’t resentment, not really. He could tell that his dad was just a prick, and Zuko was just a scared little boy looking for his love and approval. He’d heard whispers that he was the son of some millionaire, though he certainly didn’t live like it. Seven: he had a sister. He’d met her twice, neither of which were pleasant. The first was in a courtyard, when he was hanging out with his sister and her boyfriend. Azula had made fun of Zuko’s scar, and that was when their relationship connected in his head. The second time around, he was fishing off the side of the port while Katara practiced her bending, and she had pushed him off the dock. No wonder Zuko had literally never mentioned her. Eight: he had an uncle that was fairly close with him. Whenever Zuko did talk, it always managed to rope its way around to Iroh and how much the boy admired him. He’d never met him, but he wanted to. He mentioned he owned a tea shop downtown, though Sokka never found out what it was called. Iroh seemed to be much more of a father than his real dad was. Nine: Zuko was a fuse beside a matchbox. He always seemed to be in the manic end of some kind of episode. One wrong word, and he’d blow. And ten: he had a habit of sneaking out at night.

He’d first noticed it last spring, when he heard Zuko push open the window and jump— from their third story dorm. Sokka panicked, rushing to the window, expecting to see him broken on the concrete. But he’d made a graceful landing and ran off into the night. He always took a backpack, always wore all black. For the first few weeks, he suspected some kind of drug cartel. But Zuko wasn’t shy about his drug usage, if you could call it that. He smoked a joint every once in a while, and always offered Sokka one. And when he wasn’t engrossed in sketching or homework, he’d join him.

Sokka had decided early on that he preferred a high Zuko to a normal Zuko. It was the only time he’d ever seen him smile and laugh. The only time he would ever open up about anything, and the only time he and Katara got along. Also the only time he’d ever accepted a hug from him. So, decidedly better.

But in truth, as much as Sokka did know about Zuko, there were three major plot points he’d glossed over, and thank every god out there that he did. They were all ‘why’s. Why was Zuko so quick to jump to anger? Why did he hate his dad so much? Why did he sneak out every night?

Those were things Zuko was not prepared to let him know.

Starting from that first why: the answer to that one was the most straightforward. With political tensions high between the Fire Nation and—well, everyone, Zuko wanted absolutely no one to know of his true nature as a citizen. Well, much more than a citizen. For one, he was a bender. He was sure that if that got out, the whole college would lynch him. Then, there was the matter of his dad… which wasn’t a huge deal. Absolutely not. He was only the Fire Lord, after all. Nothing crazy. It wasn’t like he was the crown prince to the Fire Nation. Anymore.

And then there was his pesky little habit of sneaking out. As he lay there, on a shitty $200 mattress, he decided to go against his promise to Sokka, and do just that. He groaned, finally sitting up. He changed soundlessly into his black clothing, tugging on his gloves and leaning down to tight lace his boots. It was only then that he must have made a noise, because Sokka sat up to stare at him. The boy yawned, rubbing his head. “What are you doing?” He asked sleepily. Zuko froze up, gritting his teeth.

“Go back to sleep,” was all he offered, quickly hiding away his belongings in his bag. He looked away, so Sokka only got to view the right side of his face. That was more of a reflex. He knew he couldn’t hide the scar from him, but he didn’t want him to look at him.

“ _You _go back to sleep,” Sokka countered, blindly reaching for the lamp on his bedside table. When he saw Zuko cloaked in dark fabric, clutching his bag close, he rolled his eyes. “You’re not sneaking out again, are you?”__

“It isn’t sneaking out,” Zuko snapped. “I’m an adult. I’m just leaving.”

“You’re sneaking out,” he groaned. “You promised you would sleep. Just for the night!”

“I couldn’t,” he hissed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s too loud.”

“ _Too loud? _It’s literally dead silent,” Sokka argued. “Just sit down. Make some tea, that helps you, right?” Zuko looked away, nervously fiddling with the handle of a sword in his pack. “I’ll even sit down with you. Deal? It’s like, a million degrees out there.”__

Without waiting for an answer, Sokka rose to his feet, heading to their kitchenette. Zuko watched as he began brewing some god awful bagged chamomile, and decided he wasn’t getting out of this. He huffed (which sounded more like a pout), dropping his bag and pulling off his gloves.

“Why do you even care how I sleep? I don’t see how that concerns you.” He sat down at their small table (which could seat four, if Sokka wanted friends or family over), crossing his arms.

“Bros don’t let bros get sleep deprived enough to hallucinate, Zuko.”

“Those aren’t because of the sleep deprivation,” Zuko muttered, soft enough that Sokka had to assume that he had heard wrong. If he was honest, he had trauma episodes making him think he was back home, that Sokka was someone he wasn’t, that he was back in some god awful place with two good eyes.

“Listen, man. I worry about the boys. And you are the boy I worry most about.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Zuko bristled. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked the names, more like he felt they were fake. He wasn’t near close enough to Sokka to be rewarded with such casual banter. Not like he deserved to be ‘one of the boys’ in the first place. Sokka ignored the comment, setting a mug in front of him.

“Where do you even go at night, anyways?” He asked, and it was entirely innocent, but Zuko became defensive very quickly. He didn’t respond, just turning so his body was angled away from him. Sokka furrowed his brows, setting down his own mug. “Listen, Zuko, we’ve been living together for two years, and we’re gonna live together for another four. You’re gonna have to talk to me about this kind of stuff eventually.”

“I like to keep to myself, okay?”

“I know, but this is getting ridiculous. Like, were you ever going to tell me you have a sister?”

Sokka knew he had hit a nerve when Zuko’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t back down. He just waited for an answer. “I—how did you, I mean—”

“I met her sometime last year. She seemed offended I didn’t know who she was. Then she made fun of you and mocked your scar. I mean, I can see why you don’t bring her up, but I didn’t even know she existed.” Zuko flinched at the mention of his scar.

“She’s not allowed to see me,” he said simply. “Uncle got me a restraining order.”

Now it was Sokka’s turn to go wide-eyed. “What the fuck did she do that made you guys do that?”

“She tried to kill me,” he shrugged, looking down into his mug. “Not like she follows that piece of shit. She manages to insert herself into my life.”

“Jesus,” Sokka breathed. “And she’s not like, in jail, or anything?”

“My dad helped her out.”

“So it’s true your dad is rich. Rich enough to bail someone for attempted murder.”

“Where did you hear that?” He asked, suddenly fairly uncomfortable.

“...People talk about you…” Sokka thought Zuko would know he was a particularly interesting subject when it came to gossip. He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but here he was. Zuko reached up to touch his scar.

“Yeah, ok, you could say that,” he mumbled.

“So.. why do you live in a shit dorm at public college?”

“Same reason,” he coughed. “I pay my own bills.” He looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Uncle helps sometimes, if I’m like. About to die, or something.

“Why do we both shoulder rent, then? My dad pays mine. It’s not really fair for you to pay just as much…”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he shook his head. He hadn’t touched his tea. “I get by.”

“...I didn’t even really know you had a job.”

Zuko only shrugged, dipping his finger into his mug and swirling it around. “I work for uncle, at the tea shop,” he mumbled. “That’s why like, half of my diet is tea. I get it for free.” He shrugged. There was also his… side job, but… he shook his head. “Any other burning questions?”

“You know I’m just going to ask about your scar.”

Zuko went quiet for a few moments. He did know that. “I… got it from someone in the fire nation, in a fight,” he mumbled. It wasn’t untrue, per se. It wasn’t true, either, but...

“Wait. You mean, like… a fire bender? You’ve met real fire benders?”

_I lead them. I am them. I kill them, and I disgraced them._

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Haven’t you?”

“Not… really. Not besides like, invasions. God, they’re all bastards.” Zuko flinched. “I don’t know how any of them can sleep at night. I would have killed myself, with all of that guilt.”

And with that, Zuko’s gloves were back on, and he was out the window, tea untouched.


	2. Kick Me While I’m Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this is short and I know a little rushed but I wanted some soft shit

“Apparently the blue spirit was out last night,” Sokka hummed, “they got photos of him fighting some muggers.”

Zuko just about spat out his tea. For one, they weren’t muggers, they were about to kill a helpless girl. Two, who the hell managed to get photos of him? He was always so careful. “Oh?” Was all he responded, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He supposed he wasn’t much better. He had ended up killing _them _, in the end. He was glad Sokka hadn’t seen him crawl back through the window, dripping and blood and steaming with anger.__

“Spirits, he’s hot,” Sokka sighed, placing his chin in his hand. This time, this time Zuko _did _spit out his tea. He covered his mouth, looking up incredulously.__

“I’m sorry?” He asked, scanning his roommate’s face for sarcasm. There was none.

“He’s _hot _,” he repeated.__

“You’ve never seen his face.”

“Don’t need to,” he grinned. “Any man that could crush my skulls between his thighs: hot.”

“I…” he coughed, looking away. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Maybe if you talked to me more, you would,” he teased, though his tone was pointed. “I’ve never had a real boyfriend, though. Dating pool is kinda limited, you know? But I would _not _mind making out with the Blue Spirit in an alleyway.”__

“Again, you have literally never seen his face. He could be hideous under there.” He looked down, scratching the back of his head. “He could be fire nation, for all you know.”

“He wouldn’t be attacking fire nation officials if he were.”

“There are plenty of fire nation citizens that rebel… they’re just killed quickly. Ozai is very good at sniffing out disloyalty.”

Sokka stayed quiet for a while, leaning back in his chair. “Think that’s why he killed his son?”

Killed. People thought Ozai had killed him. That made covering his identity easy, he guessed. “No.”

“Posit a theory, then.”

“More of a fact… he just hated him. He was looking for an excuse to get rid of him. He talked out of line, and that was an excuse to put him in the arena.”

“...La. That’s fucked up.”

“So is Ozai.”

“I wonder,” he hummed, standing up to pace. “If he were still alive, do you think he would be like his dad?”

“No,” he answered, much too fast. “I— I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know too much past him being dead, and what the princess says about him publicly.”

“...what does she say about him?”

“That he was a weakling, that he didn’t deserve to be born. That he was a shitty fire bender.”

“He was.” Zuko stood up, “he was a bastard, a traitor, all around piece of shit. He was lucky to be born.” He walked to the window, leaning against the sill. “So useless, he couldn’t even be the Fire Lord’s pawn.” He was definitely saying too much. Way too much.

“Dude… I’ve never seen you be this mean about someone. Not even your dad. You’re a nice dude, I’ve never seen you act like this. Did you know the guy, or something?” Something seemed to click in his brain. “Was he the one that burnt your face?” When Zuko didn’t answer, just opening his mouth and shutting it, he thought he had his answer.

“Then he was a bastard,” Sokka said coldly. “Maybe he deserved to die, after all.”

“Don’t say that.” Zuko snapped.

“How can you still defend him after he’s done something like that?”

“Just shut up, Sokka. You’re only making this worse.”

“He _Hurt you, _Zuko. I don’t care how many things he did in life, he fucked it all over the moment he—“__

“ _It was my father! _” Zuko snapped, whipping around to face him. The moment he realized what he said, he clapped his hand over his mouth. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Wait—“__

“Your dad is Fire Nation?” He asked, his voice quiet with disbelief. “ _You’re _Fire Nation?” Zuko backed up, but only stumbled into the wall. The first emotion that Sokka displayed was disbelief. Then, it was anger. He looked like he was about to yell. But… it was suddenly calm.__

Zuko was Fire Nation. Yet, never once had he hurt Sokka. He’d never hurt anyone. He bought food for the kids in the cafeteria that didn’t have any. He fed turtle ducks by the pond, for fuck’s sake. He was Fire Nation. And he was nothing like them.

He took a step forward, and Zuko braced for a pinch. But, the impact never came. Instead, he felt Sokka wrap his arms around him, holding him tightly. He struggled against it, but was held there, and wasn’t going to move anytime soon. “Let me walk you to work, dude,” he murmured softly. He pulled away, picking up Zuko’s bag and placing it in his hands.

“You’re—“ he was shaking. “You’re not gonna kill me?”

“It’s not like you’re suddenly a different person. You’re the nicest kid I know. Even if you are a pyromaniac,” he teased, a crooked smile on his face.

“I am _not _a pyromaniac,” he pouted, and shit, that made Sokka melt. God, he was cute.__

“C’mon. I’ve always wanted to meet your uncle.”


	3. Late Night Microwave Noodles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmm I love hurting don't you

Tension had a certain feeling in the air, and Zuko knew it well. It sucked the oxygen out of the room, creating an inescapable vacuum that didn't let you breathe. Ha, just like a flame. Zuko sat on his bed, staring down at his hands. It was late. He'd normally be up anyways, but it would be quiet, in the dark. Alone. Instead, Sokka stood in the kitchenette, watching two bowls of cheap noodles spin in the microwave. One was chicken, the other one flavored with something Sokka could only describe as, ‘ _holy hell, spicy _’. He always wondered how Zuko could stand the stuff, but he guessed that now… he must have grown up with stuff like this.__

Zuko felt a sudden counterweight on the side of the bed, along with a plastic bowl of Shin Black being shoved in his hands. “Thanks,” he mumbled, then taking the shitty disposable chopsticks offered. The two ate in silence for a few minutes, the lack of noise deafening. Zuko hated it. There was too much hanging in the air, too much unsaid.

“So…” Sokka began, bringing his own bowl to his lips to sip some of the watery broth. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, looking over. Zuko sighed, turning his face away.

“What do you want to know?” he murmured, holding his noodles close to his stomach.

“How… how long since you left?” He chose his words carefully, setting his food on Zuko’s nightstand.

“Seven years.” he looked up, rubbing his face.

“What made you leave?”

“It’s heavy,” Zuko warned, furrowing his brows.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he assured, gently resting his hand on the prince’s knee. He flinched, shaking his head.

“No, I’m just… warning you,” he went quiet for a moment. How much could he say without completely outing himself and his identity. “I, um, I fucked up. I can’t remember what I did,” he lied. “But my dad challenged me to an Agni Kai—”

“A what?” Sokka interrupted.

“Oh, um, it’s a traditional duel. It used to be that you won when you burned the opponent, but these days… uh, it’s normally fought to the death. But, uhm, his conditions were that, if I lost, I would leave the Fire Nation and never come back, but if I won, I could stay.” he spoke carefully, not daring to look up to Sokka.

“And, ok, let me get this straight. You were _thirteen _.”__

“Yeah, um,” he looked down. “I didn’t get my flame until I was eight, so I only had five years of practice, and my dad had…” fuck, how old was his dad? Did he even care? “Thirty-eight. I think. I really didn’t wanna fight him, I knew I would lose. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, though, and he wouldn’t just let me apologize. I… I think you can figure out how that ended,” he mumbled, gesturing vaguely to his scar.

“...Holy shit,” Sokka whispered. “That is so, _so _fucked up.”__

“At least he didn’t kill me,” he laughed weakly, attempting to lighten the conversation. He cleared his throat. “Anyways,” he waved it off, “My uncle gave me a job, you know, I’ve been fine.”

Sokka let out a tight breath, shaking his head. He slowly wrapped an arm around Zuko, giving him plenty of warning. He felt him shrug. “Tui and La,” he mumbled.

“I’m okay,” he lied. “It isn’t like the Fire Nation was a great place to be. It’s fairly decent out here. I guess it’s better.”

“So… you can bend.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I haven’t done it in like, three years. My uncle trained me for a long time, he’s a master, but he teaches really different than— well, my dad. My dad taught with anger, that you bend with aggression. But my uncle teaches control and restraint, which was really hard for me.” he looked up, sighing heavily. “I think that’s why I’m always so angry, anyways, you know. Too much energy that wants to be fire. When I met you—” he had to pause, laughing softly. “You really annoyed me, actually. You know how I always used to wear gloves?”

“Um… yes…”

“It was because I would kinda spark up when I was upset. Melt the fingers of the gloves. I mean, I guess it was better than not wearing them, but,” he held his hand up. “Melted synthetic yarn isn’t too nice.” Sokka observed his fingertips, and the burn and blister scars that decorated them. He winced, noting that _he _caused that.__

“So… you don’t bend at all, anymore?” he had to feel bad, hearing him recount the hardships.

“Yeah, I guess. Not like I was any good at it.”

“Then…” spirits, he was going to regret this. “Why don’t you start again? You can do it here, as long as you don’t burn any of my shit,” he joked, squeezing his shoulder. “But, seriously, it doesn’t sound healthy to keep it hidden away.” Zuko examined his hand, smiling weakly. He extended his index and middle finger, and after a moment, a flame the size of a candlelight appeared. Sokka gasped, grinning after a moment. “Yo,” he chuckled.

“I guess it isn’t,” he considered, letting the flame twirl around his hand. “I used to bend to focus, actually. Probably why my grades are so shit these days. My tutors would be so disappointed.”

“Tutors?” Sokka cocked a brow, tilting his head. “Man, your dad’s _that _rich?”__

“Mhm… but, you know, they hated me too. Was too interested in history and art, not enough in war and stuff…”

“But… you’re a political science major.”

“Am now. Guess all that shit got to me, at some point. My mom always told me that a—” he stopped himself, having intended to say, _a prince can never know enough about his culture, _but caught his tongue. “Well, that it wasn’t bad to learn about my culture, learn about how the fire nation was still peaceful. We weren’t a war nation, really. We apparently only had little squabbles and stuff, mostly land battles. Back when my— um, when Avatar Roku was around. Before Sozin went crazy.” he looked up. “Sorry, sorry. I’m rambling.”__

“No, no, man. You’re getting stuff out, that’s good. Seriously, it’s all okay. This is good for you.” he rubbed his back gently. “You’ve… you’ve never mentioned your mother before. She sounds nice.”

“She was,” a soft smile decorated Zuko’s face, a rare sight to see. “She didn’t really care about my bending. She always played music for me, and she would sit with me in the gardens to feed the animals.” his smile slowly fell. “I miss her.”

“I’m… sorry for your loss.”

Zuko shrugged some. “Well, you know. You said you met my sister? Don’t believe anything she says about our mom, if she ever mentions her. She hated her. I think it was ‘cause my mom knew she was fucking crazy. She always burned the flowers in the courtyard, and she used to kill the turtleducks when we fed them.”

“She sounds like a fucking psycho.”

“She is. Psychopathy runs in my family, from my dad’s side… like, legit, clinical psychopathy. Everyone’s had it after my great grandpa.”

“Well, you don’t,” Sokka offered.

“I… I’m not actually so sure about that,” he whispered. “I.. I was a bad person, for a long time. Like, a really, _really _bad person.”__

“I don’t think you could be.” Sokka held him close.

“No, Sokka, you don’t get it.” he stood up, pulling away from him. “I…” he rubbed his face. “I killed people, Sokka,” he whispered. “I burned down villages. And the thing is— I-I didn’t feel _anything _. I felt fine. I wasn’t guilty, I just looked at it as… business. Three years, Sokka. I did terrible stuff, absolutely terrible stuff.” His voice wavered, catching in his throat. There were suddenly arms around him, with Sokka’s face nuzzling into his shoulder.__

“Zuko… you’re a good man. I know you are,” he mumbled. “You were just raised to be a bad one.”

“No firebender is a good man,” he laughed painfully, tears streaming down his right cheek. “Fire does nothing but take. It kills, it maims. Water heals, earth grounds, but fire? It just destroys everything in his path.”

“Fire brings warmth,” Sokka began, “It cooks food, it brings light, it does so many things, Zuko. So much more than destroy.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve never seen a city burn down, you’ve never watched people try to escape a burning building. You’ve never—” he choked on a sob, covering his mouth. “You’ve never killed someone.”

“...You need some sleep,” Sokka cooed. “Come on, big guy, time for bed.”


	4. Slow Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gon be real with y’all, this was really a ‘get it over with’ chapter that I would omit if I didn’t have it halfway done by the time I decided I hated it lol. Anyways im losing motivation real quick even though I have this all planned out cause it seems no one quite enjoys it lol

On the roof of some kind of office building, a masked boy sat, sharpening his swords. The bevelled edges of the dao were mirrored in finish, as he’d been lazily rasping a whetstone on the blades for two hours now, driven to do so from the boredom that was consuming him. The Blue Spirit had gone on patrol four hours ago, and had found no signs of crime or trouble. So, he’d ascended to a building where he had a good vantage point, and resolved himself to a shitty, slow night.

Not that it was bad to have a slow night. It meant little to no danger, no death, and that was good. He guessed. So, he’d gone ahead to sharpen his dao. It was quiet, aside from the occasional clacking of heels when women made their way home, a few feral animals running around and fighting. It was really nice, actually.

He eventually decided the blades couldn’t get any sharper. The spirit set them aside, leaning back to lay on his back. His feet swung over the edge of the roof, tapping against the concrete. Staring at the stars, he debated just going back home. He guessed he really didn’t need to be out, and he wouldn’t mind just playing Uno with his roommate and his friends.

When Sokka said his sister and a few friends were coming over to play cards and drink, Zuko quickly resigned to leaving for patrol early. But now that he was bored out of his mind, he decided it might just be better to join them. He shoved his swords into their protective covers, hiding them away in his bag. He took to scaling down the building, and once he landed on the ground, he looked around to make sure no one was around. He took off his mask, placing it in the bag as well.

He began on the path back to campus, shoving his hands in his pockets. He felt awfully useless lately, with the city being so quiet. He seemed to help reporters more than people. It was shit.

He used his badge to scan into campus. He could go ahead and take the normal way up, but that was no fun. He took his normal way up the side of the building, kicking up the window. He heard someone gasp, but Sokka just offered a drunken grin.

“Hey!” he hummed, watching as his roommate climbed through the window. “You’re back!”

“And you’re drunk,” Zuko mumbled. “How much have you had?”

“Oh, not much!” he hummed, swinging an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. The boy flinched, stepping away.

“He had three four locos,” Sokka’s sister called. Katara, if he remembered right. Then three kids he didn’t know at all.

“You dumbass,” Zuko sighed, sliding his bag under the bed. “I’m not going to help you with your hangover,” he mumbled.

“Hold on, hold on,” a girl sitting on their counter interjected. “Who the fuck is this and why did he come in through the window?”

“I live here,” Zuko said simply, walking around her to open the fridge, he grabbed some leftovers, sighing softly.

“Oh,” she shrugged. “So, you’re Zuko, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Nice. I’m Suki,” she introduced, extending her hand to shake his. He flinched, ignoring it. He bit into his food, making his way back to his bed. “Well, you’re super personable,” she chuckled.

“He’s just emo,” Sokka teased, handing him some kind of craft beer. Zuko scrunched his nose up, cocking a brow.

“Get that bullshit out of my face,” he scoffed. A few of the kids looked up, looking somewhat offended. But Sokka just laughed.

“You’re such a prick. Rice wine?” he asked.

“Please.”

Sokka grinned, walking back past Suki to dig through one of their cabinets. He pulled out a bottle made of frosted glass, full of a clear liquid. He tossed it towards Zuko, who panicked quickly to grab it. “Hey, asshole! It’s glass!”

“Hey, it’s all good. If you get cut you can just… Katara is here.”

“I care less about cuts and more about losing a fifty dollar bottle of wine, idiot.” he popped the replacement cork, bringing the bottle to his lips. Fuck, he sure needed that.

“So~” Sokka hummed. “You met Suki, and you know Katara. That’s Katara’s boyfriend, Aang—” he gestured to a shorter kid with a hat pulled low on his forehead. “That’s Toph.” he then turned to the other girl, who waved in his general direction. As he examined her, he noted that her eyes were a milky white, complete cataracts. He nodded slowly.

“Got it,” Zuko sighed, chugging back the rest of the wine. He went quiet, keeping the left side of his face hidden away from the others.

“Toph is blind as fuck,” Sokka continued. “But she’s an earthbender. So she sees— like, with her feet.”

“I don’t _see _shit, Snoozles. But hey, Sparky—” Zuko tensed up at the name. Where the hell did she pull that from? “You limp on the left. What’s up with that?”__

Zuko didn’t respond. Sokka frowned, sitting down beside him. The air got heavy quickly, and everyone stopped talking. Aang eventually broke the silence, offering another game with the others.

Sokka glanced to his roommate, offering an apologetic smile. “Hey, she doesn’t know any better. She’s blind.”


	5. In One Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for selfharm mentions

Even if Zuko had been opening up lately, he still couldn’t stand to think about his home. It was too much to imagine. Uncle had once or twice recommended therapy, and Zuko shot the idea down. But on nights like this, the suggestion made more sense.

It was funny, how vivid dreams could be. He could smell the sickly sweet scent of burning flesh, he could feel fire hot on his face. It was only alleviated by the very real tears steaming off of his face as he writhed and cried in his sleep. His quiet sobs were enough to wake Sokka, no matter how heavily he slept.

When the boy rose to see Zuko in such a panicked state, he debated if it would be smart to intervene. Zuko didn't take well to being touched even when he expected it. How would he react when he was panicked and confused? Would he hurt himself? He watched him for a bit, ultimately deciding to wake the boy.

He pushed himself out of bed, coming over to gently grasp Zuko’s shoulder. He shook him slightly, frowning. “Zuko?” He asked, loud and clear for him.

Now, he expected a negative reaction, he did. But he wasn't prepared for what actually transpired. The other sat up like a bullet, letting out a choked sob, followed by a loud, “ _Get away! _” And boy, was Sokka glad he followed those instructions, when a ring of flame cleared the perimeter of what Zuko could reach. He was sobbing and gasping for air, holding his hands over his mouth and good ear. Then his scar, and his hands were patting down his arms. As if he was checking to make sure he was in once piece. He touched both of his eyes now, wiping the tears that hadn't evaporated on his skin. It clicked. He was dreaming about his dad. Maybe his sister, too. He was in a full panic attack, hardly breathing. What little breath he could catch was expelled as flames, which… almost seemed like it was a normal reaction to stress. It seemed to calm him down, just a little.__

The flames he spat replaced themselves with smoke as he calmed down. His hard was hammering at a solid hundred and eighty, he was sure of it. He could feel it in his ears, feel it in his ribs. Like his arteries themselves were pushing against his skin.

“Shit—” Zuko sputtered, once he had fully woken up. “Oh gods, did I hurt you? I didn't—”

“Hey, pal, I'm fine,” Sokka assured, cautiously approaching him. “I'm more worried about you.”

Zuko didn't look convinced. He stared at him, scanning for any indication of pain or lying. But he found none. “It was just a dream, I'm ok,” he lied. Sokka sat back to observe him. His skin was blotchy and red, but redder than it should have been from crying. He furrowed his brows. It looked like smears of paint. The longer he looked, the more he noticed the stuff all over him. Then he finally spotted it: his shirt was plastered and shiny against his side, and a pool of blood on the bed.

“Holy shit!” He gasped. Panic. Panic, fuck. Katara wouldn’t be awake, and he knew full well Zuko’s insurance wouldn't pay for it to get treated. Zuko followed his gaze, raising his bloodied arm.

“Oh,” he said, his voice nonchalant. He seemed more annoyed than anything. He slowly peeled off his matted shirt, and not to reduce the issue at hand but— holy shit, who gave him the right to be that built?

There was bloodied gauze clinging to his ribs, having mostly soaked through. “You— why didn't you get that treated?”

“It's not deep,” he shrugged. Through the blood, he could see a long gash across his side. “Just a scratch.”

“You dumb fuck!”

“Hey, I had sealed it. I must have just…” he traced a few smears, noting that he had been grabbing onto himself throughout his nightmare. “I'll just melt it.”

“ _No, you will not! _You will let Katara come help! Jesus Christ, ok—” he shot his sister a frantic text before heading over to the kitchenette. He had a really, really vague idea of how to care for a wound. Pressure or something. He grabbed some paper towels, hurrying them back to press against the laceration. “How did you even do this?”__

He felt Zuko tense up beneath his hands. He just shook his head. He assumed it was probably just something embarrassing. He pressed the towel into the wound, cringing at the feeling of fresh blood soaking out to his fingers. Just like the rest of Zuko, it was hot. Like, uncomfortably. Bath water level hot. How did he stand being in the summer weather when he was already so warm?

His phone dinged, and he just decided to take it as a confirmation from his sister. His hands were occupied and messy, so it wasn't like he could answer if he wanted to. He knew Katara, she was too nice to pass up healing. Even if it was Zuko. The two had never gotten along. Well, Katara had never gotten along. He had never seen Zuko do something to her.

Well, maybe. She was in their dorm last year, sobbing about their mother and how much she missed her. With all good intentions, Zuko had done his best to help calm her down. And she blew up in his face, telling him that he didn't know what it was like to lose a parent. And Zuko, fusebox that he was, yelled right back. _”You think you're the only one with fucking family trauma? You don't know shit about my situation!”_

Looking back on it, it was a perfectly good reason to yell. It was back when Zuko still wore gloves every day, when that trauma was fresher. They both said things they didn't mean, and he was sure they had both regretted it.

Soon enough, the sound of their door unlocking came. “Okay,” his sister’s voice echoed, “what’s so important that— oh, spirits. Okay. That is a lot of blood.”

“I'm _fine _,” Zuko insisted. “Sokka, I can take care of it! This kind of stuff happens all the time!”__

Sokka went quiet, as Katara filled a bowl with water. “What… what do you mean, this happens all the time?” He asked. Was… was Zuko doing this to himself? Was he doing this on purpose?

He felt his sister’s hand replace his, and he allowed her to take over as he tried to process that option. It wasn't too outlandish, really. Zuko had a penchant for self discipline, which often blurred the lines between training and punishment. Harm.

When he saw katara bending the blood out of the sheets and clothes, he had to do a double take to look at the moon. Had he really lost track of its cycle? Gods, he felt like a jerk. He normally gave the moon his utmost attention. And now… he just forgot about her.

Maybe, he considered, it was due to his affections attending elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun fact burning human flesh has a very distinct smell. No one can really agree on something other than _sweet _. I personally find it smells like burnt caramel, but I've got friends who think it smalls from any number of things from honeyed garlic to rotting flowers. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of smelling dead smoke please don't go out of your way to do so. It's very toxic and is so thick that it often clogs up retorts' venting systems, which are meant to handle it. You have no idea how many people I know who have gone out of their way to stand in or around a crematorium to smell dead smoke after I've mentioned it so__


	6. Double-Edged Blade

Zuko had to admit, he hadn’t felt this strong as the Blue Spirit since he had first donned the mask. The night before, once Katara had finished up with his side, she must have noticed that there were several more injuries decorating his body inside and out. She’d said nothing about them, just set to healing them in the same manner she had handled his ribs. And now, jumping over rooftops, there was finally no pain from his sustained wounds from various weapons, knives, elements, even a whip, once. He was just about back to his prime state as a vigilante.

It wouldn’t last long, and he knew it, but he planned to enjoy it while it lasted.

There were only a few petty crimes tonight, so far. There were a few robberies, one break-in at a jewelry store. He had gotten a few scrapes and cuts on his neck from broken glass, but he couldn’t feel them against his wind-worn skin. He vaguely recognized the feeling of warm blood smearing back across his shoulder, but he thought little of it as he patrolled the ground.

When he finally saw something, he screeched to a halt, nearly sliding off of the roof’s edge. He couldn’t see them terribly well, but he could pick up bits and pieces of a conversation. There was a woman backed against a wall. She was crying. There were three men standing before her, muttering about money and drugs.

He shifted his head around so he could see them, slowly beginning to repel down the wall of the building. He used the ledges of the windows to grab and use as footholds, his boots scuffing the glass. The closer he got, the more he put together about the current situation. The three men were dealers, and the girl had bought something from them with a promise to pay it off later. He had to frown. He wasn’t a fan of hard drugs. They made people do bad things, but as far as he was concerned, the girl had done nothing worthy of death. She definitely looked worn by substance abuse: darkened eyes, tract marks, pallid tones to her skin. It was… sad.

The men were threatening her with a switchblade. Once landing on the ground, he could see it clearly, the sharpened metal glinting in the moonlight. It was held dangerously close to her throat, dimpling the skin covering her windpipe. None of them seemed to notice him, so it made the reactions all the better when one of his dao came down on the armed man’s shoulder.

He yelled, dropping the switchblade. The next thing to hit the ground was his body. The others whipped around, and he motioned for the girl to take the opportunity and run. She did. He stooped down to grab his right sword, getting himself in stance to fight.

It was kind of blurry, the entire fight. Blood and clashing of metal and a knife in his shoulder. He went on autopilot, almost. So much so, that he barely even noticed one of them snatch a dagger out of his boot, and plunge it into his back.

✷

It was 4:26 in the morning. Sokka was sound asleep, hugging onto his pillow. He had slept well, piled in six blankets, curled against the wall, so needless to say, he wasn’t happy to be woken.

As soon as he registered what had woken him, he freaked out. The doorknob turned, clicking against the lock. It was tried a few more times. Then, a key. The lock opened, then the door. Sokka was frozen, expecting the worst. A burglar? A murderer? Was he going to die, right here?

He counted six steps. They were unevenly spaced, loud and clumsy. And then, a body hit the floor. His eyes widened. He tightened the blankets around his body. So, a murderer. Well, he had lived a good life. He didn’t have a will written, but all of his useless shit could go to Katara, and she could pawn it off. He guessed he could—

“ _Sokka _,” a weak voice called out. He knew that voice. That was Zuko. Now that he looked over, the other bed was empty. He scrambled out of bed, tugging the cord of his lamp. And dear spirits, he wished he hadn’t.__

Zuko laid in the small hallway to their room. His hair was damp from sweat. And he was lying in a pool of blood. His blood, he quickly figured out, upon seeing a fucking knife sticking out of his back. “Holy _shit! _!” He picked his phone, speed dialing Katara. “Holy fuck, Zuko!” He rushed to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Holy shit! What the hell happened? What did you—”__

“Hello?” His phone picked up Katara’s sleepy voice. “What do you need?”

“Katara, come over, _now. _Holy fuck, are you ok? What happened?”__

“I got stabbed, you idiot,” Zuko hissed. “What the fuck does it look like?”

“I was referring to how you got stabbed, you dumb fuck!” Sokka heard his phone hang up. Zuko didn’t answer the question, rolling onto his side. The tip of the knife extended out of his stomach. “Oh my _Spirits _.”__

__Zuko was cold. Really cold. He didn’t register that it was probably due to his blood loss. He painted quickly, the exhales spouting small flames in an attempt to warm himself up. “Fuck,” he whispered._ _

While they waited for his sister, Sokka looked around. Zuko had left his phone during his trip. He got to the emergency call screen, clicking on Iroh’s contact. It rang four times before there was an answer. “Nephew, you’re up a little early—”

“Iroh, it’s Sokka,” he rushed out. “Um, fuck, uh— Zuko’s hurt. Like, bad. You know where we live, right?”

“Was it his sister?” He asked, the sounds of him getting up coming through the phone.

“She wouldn’t be so nice as to let me live,” Zuko called, coughing up a spark of flame.

“I’m coming,” Iroh promised. “Sokka, please keep him together.” Then there was a click.

Sokka sighed, pulling Zuko close so he could rest his head on his lap. He hushed him gently, petting his hair in the most calming manner he could muster. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Katara is gonna come help you. You’ll be okay,” he cooed. “Just stay with me, Zuko. Focus on your breathing— yeah, just like that. You got it.”

“Sokka?” He looked up when he heard his sister’s voice at the door. “Oh, my spirits.” Katara rushed in, turning the faucet on full. She took a blob of water from it, rushing over to the two. She kneeled down, her knees now soaked with blood. “Sokka, I need you to take the knife out.”

Sokka sighed gently, leaning down to whisper ‘I’m sorry.’ He wrapped his hand around the handle of the blade, softly counting to three before yanking it out.

Zuko screamed, writhing in pain. More blood pooled out of the wound, spraying onto the both of them. Katara quickly separated the blob into two, placing one on each end of the wound. Blood pooled into them, turning the soft blue glow that normally accompanied healing into a dark purple. Zuko gasped and sniffled, reaching up to grab Sokka’s hand.

He yelped, noting the burns Zuko’s fingertips were definitely going to leave. He let him do so, though. He knew Zuko needed the support more than Sokka needed unscarred hands. After three excruciating minutes, there was nothing but scarring.

“Fuck,” Zuko whispered, his fingers cooling down.

“So, what the _hell _happened?” Sokka asked, letting Zuko lie down on his back. He gently brushed the hair out of his face, using his other hand to gently rub his shoulder.__

“I… got jumped,” he lied, his eyes slipping closed. “Bastards stabbed me with my own knife…”

“And… you had a knife, why?”

“I’m not gonna explain that,” he muttered, reaching up to rub his eye.

“Spirits, Zuko. how do you keep getting yourself into these kinds of messes? This isn’t _normal _, man.__

“Shut up,” Zuko sighed. “I don’t need you mothering right now…”

“He’s right, Sokka,” Katara sighed. “He’s in shock. He needs to rest for a minute. Scold him tomorrow,” she muttered.

She helped him to his bed, beginning to scrub out the blood with cold water and dish soap. No full moon to help her clean up this time. It happened to be when she was kneeling in the mess of blood when Iroh showed up. He stood at the open door, raising a hand to his mouth. Sokka could see his mind race to the worst possible factor, an assumption that his nephew was dead.

“He’s in bed,” Sokka assured. “He… won’t tell us what happened. Well, he got stabbed, but you know. No clue _how _,” he rambled nervously. Iroh looked between the two teens, nodding.__

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he sighed. “I will see if I can get him to open up.” and with that, Iroh and Zuko had locked themselves in the small bedroom area.

Sokka sighed heavily, leaning back on his heels. “Thank you…”

“You’re so lucky Aang makes me leave my ringer on. With what I took care of yesterday, and this, he’d be as good as dead. I hope you know that.”

Sokka went quiet, reaching for his phone. He went for social media, just wanting a bit of a distraction. But he didn’t get that. Instead, he got a headline.

_BREAKING: Blue Spirit Stabbed in Drug Murder Breakup! ___


	7. Walks Through the City

The sound of the reporter’s smooth, practiced voice in his headphones barely drowned out the frantic staccato of Sokka’s heartbeat. He was watching the CCTV of the attack the headline mentioned. The camera was angled at the exit of the alleyway, by one of the building’s back doors. The four people onscreen were barely visible. But, it gave a clear view of the masked vigilante scaling down the wall, bringing his sword down on one of the men. The woman ran, and the fight moved into the view of the camera. Attacks were expertly blocked, administered, by the Blue Spirit’s swords. And then, it happened. The shortest of the three whipped around, reaching into the Spirit’s boot—boots Sokka _knew _—extracting a straight dagger. One that now sat on his floor, its inscription filled with blood. The exact point of entry and exit. He just stared at his screen, bringing his hand to his face. When the spirit fell, appearing to collapse from blood loss, the men looted through his bag and pockets for anything of value. They found a coin purse, took it, and left him for dead. Several people passed by the body, doing nothing. It took an hour, but the spirit finally sat up. He touched his left eye, and Sokka knew why, before examining his wound. He looked like he was going to remove the knife, but thought better of it. He spotted the camera, limping to knock it out.__

And Sokka knew what happened next. He gathered his things, removed his mask, and stumbled into their dorm. The knife was removed, the wound was healed, and now he was resting.

It was all he could do to stare at his phone after the video ended. He knew exactly, _exactly _what he was to think, but he couldn’t fucking comprehend it. He wondered why the first thing that came to mind is that he regretted telling Zuko how hot the Blue Spirit was. Then it was, wow, I would doubly be happy to make out with him in an alley. Finally, holy shit. He was going to die.__

He sat across from Zuko that morning, watching the boy closely. He was totally out, for good reason. The more he looked, the more he felt stupid for not figuring it out earlier. His affinity for climbing? The impeccable lining up of his timing, his comings and goings, god, Sokka felt like an idiot. There were so many clues just out of reach. He just hadn't had a reason to look for them, to see them in any light other than sheer coincidence.

Dawn came soon, and as always, Zuko rose with the sun. And with it, came his acute awareness of being stared at. He'd had the odd feeling in the back of his head the entire night, the odd sensation of being watched buzzing behind his eyes. He rubbed his face, looking at Sokka. “What?” He asked.

“How… how are you feeling, buddy?” He asked slowly.

“Remarkably okay. Your sister is good at what she does— but I do feel terrible waking her at these shitty hours of the day.”

“Get stabbed at noon, then. Speaking of, are you gonna explain what happened?” Some sadistic part of him wanted to watch Zuko fumble for a story. It was not satisfied.

“I was jumped by Tonkatsu. Fuckers saw my coin bag and decided they wanted it. One of them spotted the knife in my boot and used it to his advantage.” The cadence of Zuko's voice was impeccably truthful, so convincing that Sokka had to stop and consider that perhaps he wasn't the blue spirit. He was so careful with his words and alibis. Tonkatsu was a restaurant he frequented, also in a bad part of town where mugging wasn't terribly uncommon. And he was telling the truth about the coins. They'd been stolen. It was so carefully crafted. “I'm fine, though. Now that I'm not bleeding out in the hallway, that is. Do you know where my knife ended up?”

“Uh, yeah. Katara rinsed it, it’s by the sink. Are… are you gonna tell me why you have a combat blade?”

“It was a present from my mother,” he replied, fondness in his voice. “For my tenth birthday, a month before she disappeared. Keep it on me as a kind of memento. Plus, it comes in handy every once in a while. Just… not when it’s through my gut. You know?”

“I know,” he breathed.

Every night since then, Sokka would watch him sneak out, watch him actually don his mask and jump out of the window. It was still odd, especially to see the mask up close. Had he been wearing it in the apartment before he left? It was so weird.

He found himself worried sick every night. He would keep himself awake waiting for Zuko to get back, to watch and make sure he wasn’t mortally wounded. Honestly, some of the stuff he saw was downright terrifying. But the way Zuko would react… he wasn’t sure if it made him more or less confident in his physical state.

For example, tonight, Zuko climbed in through the window, mask already put away. There was a splash of blood across his neck, his clothes dirtied with sand. Sokka pretended to be asleep, but kept his eyes cracked open. There was a sharp chunk of rock wedged in his shoulder— a fight with an earthbender, he supposed. He peeled off his turtleneck, examining the wound with an annoyed expression. He roughly ripped the chunks of earth out of his muscle, making Sokka cringe each time. Honestly, how did he stand to do this? His shoulder ached just from watching.

He produced a bit of packaged gauze from his sack, tearing open the sterile pack and shoving it into the wound. He taped it down to his skin, going to his dresser to grab and put on a loose tee shirt that wouldn’t rub against the wound too terribly.

And the bastard still went out the next night, as if he wasn’t still bleeding through the dressing. He’d left while Sokka was out with Suki and Toph, wandering through the city and nursing beers from a local bar. It wasn’t too terrible, he guessed, if he wasn’t home to wait for Zuko, just once. He did it often in the past, before he knew what was going on, and if things got really bad, he had Katara’s number now.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried, though. Suki had mentioned his tense posture, and Toph was badgering him about his irregular heartbeat. He ignored the both of their efforts to dissect what was wrong with him, just cautiously keeping their conversation going as they walked.

“But—but, but, but,” Suki continued, “She’s a bastard. I don’t care how much she wants us to respect her.” She was complaining about a professor that Sokka didn’t have, so he couldn’t add much to the conversation aside form, _’Oh, jeez, that sucks.’ ‘Man, that’s fucked up’, ‘Just don’t get in trouble.’_

What was odd, though, is when Toph grabbed the both of them, pulling them backwards. Sokka yelped, nearly falling flat on his ass. “Hey,” he whined, “What was that for?”

“ _Shh, _” Toph spat. “Something shady is going on around the next corner,” she whispered.__

The three went quiet, just listening for a moment. Sure enough, they heard swords clashing, one man taunting another.

_Oh, Tui and La. ___


	8. Can You Hear Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I’m really basing Zuko’s behavior off of my own and this is the routine my gf takes me through when I have episodes so like,,, take it or leave it

The fight went on for a solid twenty minutes. By then, Suki and Toph had left, deciding to just reroute home. Neither of them wondered why Sokka was so insistent on staying, on waiting. But Toph could tell he wouldn’t budge, so they leaned.

As Sokka waited, slouched against the building, he periodically peeked around to watch Zuko and his opponent. Some hardass with a toothpick in his mouth. He was taunting the Spirit relentlessly, just wanting a rouse out of him. And, if he was honest, he was surprised Zuko didn’t respond.

A dao caught the boy’s calf, causing him to sputter and swear as blood dribbled out of his jeans. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re not worth this.” He swiped his own sword across Zuko’s midsection, and still, the masked boy stayed silent.

Once Sokka was sure the other was gone, he rose to his feet. He dusted himself off, sighing softly. He rounded the corner to see the Blue Spirit slouched down against the brick of the building, assumedly recovering just a bit from his wound. Zuko didn’t react until he squatted in front of him. He was approaching his blind side, after all. He flinched, biting back a swear.

Sokka just offered a saddened smile as he looked at the wound. “Can you walk?” He asked. The Spirit hesitated, but nodded slowly. He hadn’t caught on to the fact that Sokka had uncovered his identity, but it was made explicit with his next offer. “Let’s get you home, buddy. It doesn’t look too deep… mind if we let Katara sleep for a little?”

He heard Zuko’s breath catch in his throat. He didn’t respond, just shrugging as Sokka pulled him up.

“Mask off, buddy. I’m not letting you climb up with your guts hanging out.” It took a minute, but Zuko finally just sighed and did what he was told. It was strange to see him like this, gathering his swords, the adrenaline of the fight visible just below his skin. Once he was packed, Sokka offered a hand, which Zuko took without complaint.

They walked in silence. Sokka had made some attempt at conversation, but Zuko didn’t seem willing— _capable _—of returning it. They got to the dorm building, into the elevator, and Zuko just did his best to not leave a trail of blood. As soon as they stepped into the room, Zuko felt like he was going to collapse.__

“Alright, buddy. I’ll draw a bath and make you some tea. Just keep your shorts on, and I’ll go ahead and wash you up. Sound okay?”

He had to take his silence as agreement.

He brought him into the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet. He then kneeled to run the faucet, letting it get hotter than he pleased for himself. He plugged the drain, ruffling his hair before disappearing into the kitchenette.

He ran the kettle, grabbing some of Zuko’s fancy loose-leaf tea and clumsily made a bag. He set it to steep, watching the colors swirl. There was a heavy silence in the air. He was worried out of his mind. Knowing what he did about his family, Sokka was vaguely worried that the boy had had a psychotic break. He wasn’t speaking, making eye contact, nothing.

When he reentered with a mug of tea, Zuko had gotten down to his boxers and into the scalding water, watching his blood mix into the bath. Sokka gathered a hand towel, pressed the tea into his hands, and kneeled to begin washing him up. He gently wiped away the blood, waiting until Zuko came down from whatever chemical high he had hit during the fight.

“How long have you known?” He finally croaked.

“The Thursday before last,” he murmured. “When you were attacked. There was CCTV. The wound matched perfectly…” he sighed, running a finger over the scar. “I was pushing my luck waiting for you.”

“You were,” he mumbled. “Did you see who it was?”

“No.”

“Jet,” he muttered simply. Sokka’s face twisted in confusion.

“As in, Katara’s ex, Jet? That Jet?” Zuko nodded. “Wha… what did he do?”

The prince laughed weakly. “Mai… Mai’s father is a wealthy politician. Of the Fire Nation. They occupy the village thirty minutes south of here. The one with the dam. He… he was going to blow it up, flood the village. To kill her father and his soldiers. But… it would kill everyone else, too. Everyone in the city. He would kill everyone to evacuate seventeen soldiers and a child…” he rubbed his face with bloody water.

“...Holy shit,” he whispered.

“I’d… really rather not talk about it. Not right now, at least… please.”

“Course. Yeah, course. You don’t have to talk at all, nothing, zilch.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, pressing his lips together. He wiped his mouth, gulping down the tea. “For… for everything, Sokka, really, I…” he stumbled over his words, biting back a sob. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m freaking out. That was a bad fight.”

“I know, buddy. I know.” Sokka dabbed the cloth onto his stomach.

“Can… can I have a hug?” Zuko asked weakly. Sokka only chuckled, imploring his request. He wrapped him up softly, happy to have any sort of contact from him. He felt Zuko shake, silent sobs tearing at his chest. They sat there for what felt like forever. Just holding each other. And then, he spoke again. “...kiss me,” he mumbled.

“I—What?” Sokka sputtered.

“You told me you’d make out with me,” The teasing tone was tired. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

“I did…” Sokka laughed softly. “Didn’t I?” He brushed Zuko’s damp hair away from his eyes, smiling some. The kiss he pressed against the prince’s lips was careful. Tilted and soft, as if he were afraid Zuko would break if he pushed any further. A shaky hand, wet with bloody water, rested on the back of Sokka’s head, holding him close.

When he pulled back to breathe, they rested their foreheads against each other’s. Zuko’s eyes slipped closed, but Sokka just stared at him. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

“You’re lying,” Zuko laughed weakly. “I’m scarred.”

“It’s hot,” he assured, earning a full hearted, gravely laugh. “I promise.”


	9. Red Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To u/BreakThisSpell626, hope this answers your question!

“Alright, buddy,” Sokka’s voice and arms around Zuko’s shoulders caused the prince to flinch, his pen falling from his hand. “You gonna stick around for cards tonight?”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he whined, placing his hands down.

“Sorry,” Sokka chuckled. “Seriously, though. I’ll go ahead and make ramen, and you can have a little wine. Pretty please?” he begged, kissing the side of his head.

“I should go on patrol,” Zuko murmured.

“You’re on patrol every damn night,” he whimpered. “Come on. Just one night. Cards and alcohol.”

“Yeah?” he sighed. “Sokka, something could—”

“Come on, babes,” he grinned when his good cheek bloomed red. Zuko rolled his eyes, sighing softly.

“Fine,” he whispered. “Fine, fine. Just… let me finish this. And give me some wine before anyone gets here if you don’t want me to panic and leave.”

“Will do, your highness.” Sokka didn’t catch the flash of terror that wiped across Zuko’s face at the name. It took a moment for him to realize it was a joke, but before he did, he was frozen. Fuck, both of his identities, right out the window. The other poured a glass of dark red wine, and once bringing it to Zuko, frowned at his demeanor. “Hey, Zu, you all okay?”

“I’m okay,” he whispered. “Give me that,” he murmured. Then, “Please.”

Sokka sighed, handing it over. Zuko gulped it down at an alarming rate. “Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered, finishing up the alcohol. He shakily finished up his work, closing his books and stacking everything up. Sokka furrowed his brows, refilling his glass before wrapping his arms around the other.

“You’re freaking me out. What’s up?” he asked softly, rubbing his shoulders.

“Nothing. I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m just stressed, is all.” he took the refilled glass, taking a much more reasonable sip. “Just thinking, is all. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he cooed. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Just… that’s what my sister calls me, it’s— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Let’s just sit for a minute, yeah?” he suggested, helping him out and over to the sofa. He allowed Zuko to rest his head against his chest.

“Im sorry, I just need to get drunk.”

“That isn’t healthy, Zuko.”

“Nothing I do is healthy,” he laughed weakly. “I get stabbed every other night, Sokka…”

“That, you do,” he smiled, tilting his head. He pressed a kiss to his right cheekbone, sighing softly. “Not tonight, though. Tonight, all you get hurt by is your inevitable loss at Uno.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually played,” he hummed. “There are a few card games my uncle plays with me, but he always insists to play Pai Sho… and I suck ass as Pai Sho.”

“Really?” he cocked a brow. “You seem like you’d be good at Pai Sho.”

“Mm… I always get frustrated. I don’t play anything for the long game.”

“I’m sure you’d be good at it if you were patient,” he hummed. Zuko smiled some, sipping at his wine. They sat there, just enjoying each other’s presence. Sokka just soaked up the firebender’s natural heat, tucking the prince’s head beneath his chin. “You’re so warm,” he wondered, his voice absentminded.

“We tend to be,” Zuko chuckled. “You dumbass.”

They waited for the others to arrive. It was Katara first, then Toph and Suki. Aang was the last to get there, claiming he got lost in some meditation.

Katara had to roll her eyes when she saw the two cuddled up into the couch. “How’s your back, Zuko?” She asked.

“It’s better, thank you,” he hummed, opening his eyes to look over at her. Suki cocked a brow, sitting on Sokka’s bed.

“Why, what happened to your back?”

“Ever slip against a corner?” Zuko asked, though tossed a pointed look at Katara, one that said, _‘don’t you dare say anything.’_

Suki flinched. “Oof, sounds rough. Glad you’re feeling better, though,” she offered.

“Mhm,” Zuko hummed, sipping at his wine. Sokka was giving him a bewildered look. He supposed that Zuko could have created an alibi beforehand, but it was so easy for him to lie about it.

They all took a bit to settle in before debating on dinner. “Can’t we just order something?” Toph asked, sighing softly.

“Not all of us have access to that kind of money,” Katara responded, her voice snippy and pointed.

“So let me pay! My card taps directly into my dad’s. It’s fine.”

“It’s dishonest.”

“But it works,” she shot back. Katara groaned, letting her hands drop.

“Fine, fine. Just choose somewhere Aang’s able to eat.”

“How’s pizza?” Sokka suggested. He knew they didn’t have anywhere around with decent pizza, but no one objected. They all took the lack of argument as agreement, and so Suki set to call the nearest supplier.

Aang sat down to begin dealing cards in preparation to play. They used two decks, because there were so many of them. “Zuko,” he hummed, “are you playing?”

“I’ll bite,” the prince hummed, much to Sokka’s delight. He nudged him up, which Zuko dutifully followed. He took a spot at the table, resting his chin on his hand. Sokka joined him, wrapping his arm around his waist. They all took up their cards, causing Aang to groan loudly.

“Dang it!” He whined. “This sucks,” he mumbled, burying his face in Katara’s chest. Zuko chuckled softly, catching most of them off guard.

“Damn, he laughs!” Suki teased.

“Sometimes,” Sokka grinned.

“Not my gig, I guess,” Zuko shrugged.

“He has a sense of humor, I promise,” Sokka shook his head.

“You call whatever the fuck I joke about… a sense of humor?” He scoffed, placing a card down as the game began around.

“You’re funny sometimes. Your sense of humor is just… dark.”

“You’re talking a little too much for my taste, Sokka.”

“Then,” Sokka grinned, placing his own card down. “Shut me up.”

“I’m not near drunk enough to take that bait, you dumbass,” he rolled his eyes. “Try again in three more glasses.”

“So you guys _are _dating! Toph, you owe me thirty!” Suki grinned.__

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Toph whined, throwing up a middle finger.

“Wait,” Sokka held up a hand. “You guys were _betting _on us dating?”__

“Of course they were,” Aang grinned. “It was really, really obvious, honestly.”

Zuko flushed red, looking down. He proceeded to down the rest of his wine, handing the empty glass to Sokka. “If you don’t want me jumping out the window right now, you’ll fill this back up,” he mumbled.

“You’re turning me into an enabler,” Sokka mused. He leaned over to grab the bottle, filling the glass back up and handing it over to the prince. It earned a small smile from him.

“You know,” he hummed. “Before I left home, my sister figured out how to steal dad’s good whiskey. And we’d head out to the pond and drink the whole fucking thing. Little ten and eight year old bodies full of whiskey. Got ran through the next morning, but it was _so _worth it.”__

“Ran through, huh?” Aang asked cluelessly. “How long were you grounded?”

Sokka was surprised when Zuko began laughing, whole heartedly. “I—” he covered his mouth. “Oh, fuck. Uhh, six months, I think.”

“Oh, jesus,” Suki cocked a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I—” he continued into his giggle fit. “Oh, man, sorry. It’s just… grounded…” he shook his head. He was just met with blank stares, so explained further. “He broke my leg. Grounded. It’s just funny.”

No one else laughed.

“That… isn’t funny, Zuko,” Suki frowned. “It’s fucked up.”

“Not as fucked up as it could be,” he shrugged. “He didn’t do anything to Az— to my sister. All in good fun.” Sokka quietly took away Zuko’s glass, frowning a bit.

“I think you’ve had enough of this, baby,” he mumbled, setting it aside.

“Noooo,” he whined, reaching over and attempting to grab it. “I’m fine, I’m good…”

“You’re not, let’s be done,” his tone was sweet, gently trying to convince him that he was right.

“You’re so mean,” Zuko huffed, but quit arguing. He wrapped his arms around Sokka’s waist, leaning against his chest.

“I know, I know. I’m horrid. Play your card.”

Zuko did so, putting down something of the same color. The air of the room seemed to lighten back up, but everyone was still a little on edge from what Zuko had said. It wasn’t until the food arrived that everyone relaxed all the way.

Sokka, true to his promise, made him some ramen. Zuko had a very small, well trained palette that hated anything with excess oil, unless that oil was full of chili. He handed the tipsy prince the bowl, earning a quiet thanks as he began to eat. The two sat on Sokka’s bed, the both of them soaking up the drunken affection from each other. Neither of them were sober, and both of them were way too touchy to not be inebriated.

Their hugs and touching became small kisses and giggles once people had left, just stealing hugs and pecks, tangling under the blankets. They ended up passed out in each other’s arms, bracing head for the hangover that would inevitably keep them both home all of tomorrow.


	10. Snapped

Sokka tended to wake at precisely five in the morning, as that was the same time Zuko would return from his night work. He would change clothes, and Sokka would convince him to take a two hour nap before his eight a.m. classes. It was a solid routine they had going, so Sokka felt he had the right to get worried whenever it ended up being different.

Thirty-six minutes past one, the window slammed open with more vigor than normal. Blood was smeared on the white paint of the sill and walls as he entered, rousing his sleeping roommate rather quickly. Sokka yawned, pushing himself up. He blinked a few times to clarify the bleary image he saw before him. “It’s early,” he mumbled. “Hey, you’re bleeding…”

“It isn’t mine,” Zuko muttered, his no-nonsense tone differing greatly from what it probably should have been. “I’m fine.”

“Whose is it, then?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“You’re not going to like the answer,” he shrugged, and Sokka began helping him out of his night clothes and into some pajamas. He rolled the black wool in on itself to prevent the blood from getting everywhere. There was a splatter of it across his face, almost as if he’d made the kill without his mask.

“I’d like it, though,” he remarked casually, tossing the clothes into a plastic sack to be washed. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Zuko pulled one of Sokka’s shirts on, sitting down on the bed (they had pushed the two twin beds together, shoved the crack full of blankets, and made a singular bed). “I… it… you know how a few years ago, in the northern water tribe, a general came and he… killed the moon spirit?”

Sokka froze. He was silent, taking a glance to Yue. “Uh, yeah I do.”

“Him and his men,” he whispered. “One— one of them… they knocked my mask off. They saw my face. And they knew exactly who I was. They were gonna send me back to… it wasn’t something I could use my swords to get out of. I…” he rubbed his face, smearing the blood. “I had to burn them. Burn their ship, too. I… what if someone saw? There’s no way you can’t recognize my face in this part of town. What if— what if someone comes?”

Sokka slowly took this all in. “Hey, hey, calm down,” he cooed, sitting down beside him. He used a wet wipe to clean off his face, kissing his head gently. “Nothing is gonna happen, you’re okay.”

“I haven’t bent in combat for so long, I…” he had a burn on his arm, where the heat had crept up. “I missed it. Is that terrible? I missed… fighting. Fighting with fire.”

“It isn’t. You’ve been depriving yourself of your element for so long, Zuko. Of course you missed it.” He pressed his lips against the other’s, rubbing his back gently. “You’re not bad.”

“I smell like burnt flesh,” he mumbled. Sokka couldn’t smell it. “It… it felt good as hell to kill Zhao, after everything he’s done to me, I— oh, man…” he melted into Sokka’s arms, closing his eyes. “Need to sleep..”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed, sighing softly. He gently laid the other down, piling blankets onto him as he liked. He snuggled up to him, landing a kiss on his jaw. “Sleep, just for a bit.”

—

It was a nice day out. The temperature was warm enough to be comfortable, but not so much that it caused unnecessary sweat. It was the perfect day fora picnic, so a picnic it was. Aang Had spread out a blanket, half shaded by a tree in the courtyard, for them to sit. It wasn't anything fancy, really, just to sit and drink soda and eat chips.

Sokka had miraculously convinced Zuko to join them, despite his initial hesitation. It was an excuse to sit and soak up the sun, and an excuse to nuzzle up close to the other. He was quiet for the most part, just listening to the others talk. He, apparently, wasn't as chatty while sober. He just enjoyed hearing the others.

His head rested on Sokka’s lap, the latter gently and absentmindedly combing his hair with his fingers. It was nice, it really was. Everyone was happy.

So of course, it couldn't last.

“ _Zuzu~ _”__

An unwelcome, all too familiar voice.

Sokka was the first to acknowledge Zuko’s sister, who had marched her way to stand before them. “Hey, this is way less than a hundred feet, you aren't even supposed to be on campus—!”

“Be quiet, you peasant,” Azula ordered, and Zuko clamored to stand. “I was addressing my brother, and I think that was quite clear.”

“What do you want?” Zuko spat, moving himself in front of the others. The sickly sweet smile, dripping in venom that he knew so well, eased its way onto her face.

“So, you finally snapped,” she hummed. “You did quite a number on the admiral and his troops.” Zuko froze up, visibly terrified. “It's been such a long time since you've done something like that, Zuzu. How did it feel?”

“Get to your fucking point.”

“Oh, calm down, brother. I come bearing good news, after all.”

“For some reason, I find that hard to believe,” Zuko spat. Sokka reached up to touch the small of his back, though it did nothing to calm him.

“You know, all of those ships send a live feed directly home. Just because you sank it, doesn't mean no one saw you.” A wicked grin tugged at the edges of her lips. “You've done the unthinkable, dear brother. You’ve impressed father.”

Sokka had heard enough, rising to his feet. “I don't know what kind of shady fucking mind games you're playing, but—”

“Sokka,” there was a hint of panic in Zuko’s voice, one his sister picked up on nearly immediately.

“I'm not going to hurt your water tribe toy, Zuzu. Not unless you make me.” She took a moment to examine her nails. “Father sent me to retrieve you, and bring you home. And have your title reinstated.”

“You're such a fucking liar,” he spat.

“Title?” Aang piped up. “What title?”

Azula let out a low laugh. It sounded inherently predatory, more of a growl than it was anything else. “Keeping secrets, Zuzu? How sad. They don't even know who you are. You can be proud of your status now.”

“If you don't shut up right now, I swear to Agni, I'll—”

“You'll what,kill me?” She deadpanned. “It's so unbefitting of a crown prince to threaten his family in such a way.”

The silence in the courtyard became deafening. There was no hiding what she was saying, not now.

“The crown prince is dead,” Suki countered, rising to her feet.

“The crown prince was banished,” Azula corrected. “It’s sad to see you've sunk this low, brother. Masquerading as a commoner?”

“And what the fuck else do I do, Azula?!” He finally snapped. “Keep on that wild goose chase father sent me on?”

“It’s no wild goose chase,” she laughed softly. “You’ll find him, one day. And now, you can kill him properly, before all to see.”

“I’m done hunting. I'm done dealing with you, with father, with the _war _! Do you know how mad I drove myself, searching for the avatar? I nearly killed myself, Azula.”__

“I can't say I wouldn't agree with your prognosis to do so.” Behind them, Aang and Katara shared a nervous look.

“Zuko,” Sokka mumbled. “What is she talking about?”

“Sokka, I—” he took his hands, nervously looking between him and his sister. Azula cackled, shaking her head.

“You are all so blind,” she remarked, earning a scoff from Toph. “Right under your noses, for seven years, you've been living with the crown prince of the fire nation, the eldest son of Lord Ozai.” Zuko bristled as he spoke. “The charade is up, Zuko. I'll tell everyone. You stay here, and you're as good as dead.”

“I would rather that than be some pawn in this damned war!” He barked, his hands balling into fists.

“Oh, brother,” she chuckled. “You don't understand. Father is offering you what you've been chasing since your banishment. Don't you want to help your country? We can't have a Fire Lord with no experience in war.” When Zuko didn't budge, she sighed, clicking her tongue. “Fine. If losing your own life doesn't scare you, perhaps losing your friends will.” She slid one leg back, holding up her hands, two fingers extended.

Zuko mimicked her stance. “Azula, don’t do this.”

“Don't make me do this,” she countered. And when there was no answer, what came instead, was a plume of fire.

Zuko didn’t really know what happened then. There were blue and orange sparks as the two fought. People were panicking and screaming, calling for the Dai Li, yelling about how there were firebenders invading. Azula was just taunting him the whole time.

“If you keep fighting this—“ she hissed, bunching an inferno towards her brother, “I’ll burn the place down.”

“Azula, just—“ he separated what she sent at him, changing the color to his own. “ _Fine! _”__

She smirked, dropping her hands. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“On one, _one _condition. If I go with you, you leave everyone here alone. Do you understand me?”__

She chuckled, nodding softly. “Who am I to deny the future fire lord, hm?” She purred. She stepped forward, kicking his thigh to knock him to the ground. She roughly grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up at her. She tied it up, away from his face. It was messy, but it gave her the opportunity to shove Zuko’s old hairpiece, the marker of the crown prince, in the fast bun.

Of course, once everyone’s life was ok, it had to be raided.


	11. Burn the House Down

Sokka couldn’t be in his own dorm. Not now, maybe not ever. So he sat in Suki’s dorm, and they watched the news. The anchor was speaking mechanically, knowing that if he showed any emotion, if he made any mistake, he would regret it.

_”Previously thought to be dead, the crown prince of the fire nation returned home by order of Fire Lord Ozai. Prince Zuko disappeared at age thirteen, and conjecture suggested he had died in a duel with his father.” _The dialogue was over footage of what seemed to be a recoronation. It was disturbing to see Zuko like this, in fire nation regalia, kneeling before the Fire Lord.__

“Did you know?” Suki murmured, watching the footage in horror.

“No, no. I… I knew he was Fire Nation, but…” he rubbed his face. “He looks miserable.”

“I mean…” Suki sighed, leaning back against the wall with a frown. “Would he be? I mean… he gets everything he wants, now. Money, comfort, praise…” she considered.

“He hates it there,” Sokka corrected. “He hates his dad, he hates his sister. He hates war. What if he just goes right back into an abusive hellhole? It isn’t like you call the cops on the Fire Lord. Besides…” he rubbed his eyes, just about feeling like he was going to cry.

It was true, though. Although he was around the most fire he had been in years, the spark in his eye was gone. Not once did he smile while sitting by his father, surrounded in flame.

Out there, once the camera crew left, he got little to no recognition from his father. Instead, Ozai spoke to his daughter. “Azula, see to it that your brother makes it to his room.”

“Of course, Father,” Azula hummed. The both of them stood up, both offering a bow. Much to his father’s delight, Zuko had said nothing since he had arrived. He walked side by side with Azula back to his childhood room, stiff and holding his hands behind his back. “Don’t look so miserable, Zuzu,” she shook her head, approaching his door. She made no attempt to open it for her, not that he had any expectation for her to. Instead, he opened it, allowing his sister to enter before he did.

Azula watched as Zuko slowly stepped in, running his scarred fingers along the silk tapestries that decorated the walls. It was exactly as it had been left when he left as a teenager, bloodstains and all. There was a small slice on the tapestry depicting his family, right between Zuko and his father. It was unnoticable, and Zuko was sure that he was the only one who knew of its existence.

“Father locked it up after you left,” Azula mused.

“Why would he?” he scoffed, speaking for the first time since he’d come.

“I have no clue. It isn’t like he wanted to preserve your memory.” Zuko laughed bitterly at the comment.

“Of course he didn’t. He was probably angry whenever he saw something that reminded him in any form of me.”

“Most likely,” She shrugged, sitting down on the long unused bed. “He just about burned it down.”

“Probably fantasized about killing me,” he hummed. “I have no clue why he would want me back. He hates me even more than I hate him.”

“You know how he works. He just wants your skills. He had been thinking about hiring The Blue Spirit for years, I can’t describe how hilarious his face was when you took off the mask, Agni.” she grinned, leaning back on her elbows. “He wants you to help in strategy. And your bending has improved significantly. Not as good as mine, of course, but it’s respectable.”

“It hasn’t been used in a long, long time,” he justified. “I just picked it back up this year.”

“How miserable. Why this year?”

“My… my friend. He was worried keeping it subdued was hurting me. Making me irritable and manic.”

“Who, the water tribe boy? What did you say his name was… Sokka?” Zuko hated how his name sounded rolling off of her tongue. “I’m surprised he didn’t notify the Dai Li immediately after finding you out.”

“I thought he would, for sure. But he didn’t.”

“He also didn’t know _who you were _. I’m sure that if he did…”__

“Why do you think I kept it a secret?” Zuko scoffed. “I’m ashamed to be who I am.”

“Don’t let father hear you talk like that,” she warned, her voice amused. “He’ll kill you for real this time.”

“He would,” he shrugged. He made his way to the ornate golden mirror situated at the edge of the room, decorated with a red dragon curling around the cast flames. He frowned at his reflection, turning away from the mirror. He’d have to have that removed, or covered, at least. He’d despised his reflection for years, but hadn’t actually minded seeing himself for the past little bit. All of Sokka’s praise had definitely gotten to him. But now his reflection was just a bad feeling in his gut.

“It will be a miracle if I don’t kill myself within the next week,” he remarked.

“It would be more honorable than losing another Agni Kai.”

“I wouldn’t take another Agni Kai. I’m not so naïve anymore,” he muttered.

“Sure you aren’t. You were naïve enough to come home.”

“To save my friends. Had you not threatened them, I’d have let you kill me,” he spat.

“It’s cute that you think they care that much about you. I’m sure they would have let you die, in that situation.”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” he barked. He caught his temper, letting out a breath and relaxing his posture. “They were innocent, in any case.”

“I kill innocent people every day, you know that. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I don’t like to consider myself an accessory to murder when it comes to bystanders.”

“Of course,” Azula rolled her eyes. “You’ve taken up that entire vigilante mindset.”

“That’s what caught father’s attention, wasn’t it?” He muttered, holding himself and sitting down.

“Oh, stop moping so much. It’s pathetic. I’ll send in some food for you.” she stood up, moving towards the door. Zuko glanced up, speaking just before he left.

“Thank you, Azula.”


	12. Penning Letters

Zuko laid on the bed, breathing in the scents of silk and ash from the room. The bedroom he’d grown up in, the one he sat in now, was the very image of opulence. Gilded wooden carvings, taffeta and satin bedding, and yet, it felt so horrid. There were too many memories in here, and even after a week of sleeping in this bed, his nightmares hadn’t subsided.

As the sun rose, a maid gently knocked on the door to serve his morning tea and congee. He took his breakfast alone, and hardly ever had anything more elaborate than he ate in Ba Sing Se. The tea was terrible when compared to Uncle’s, but it gave him some semblance of comfort nonetheless. “Come in,” he called weakly, sitting up and rubbing his face.

Timidly, the maid slipped in, holding a tray. “Good morning, Your Highness. I trust you slept well?” She asked, her voice soft, almost afraid. It broke Zuko to imagine what kind of abuse the palace staff had been through.

“Good morning, Eraya,” he hummed, his voice heavy with sleep. He had done his best to consider every staff member’s name to memory, though he forgot frequently. This girl in particular, though, had been tending to him every morning so far, so she was easy to recognize. Even still, she seemed uncomfortable being called by anything but some derogatory term Azula would use. “I slept… as well as I could,” he sighed, nodding softly as the tray was placed on his lap. “Thank you.”

Eraya furrowed her brows, nodding some. “Um, you’re welcome, Your Highness.”

“Zuko’s fine,” he reminded gently.

“Sir.” She excused herself, leaving Zuko to take his breakfast alone.

He stirred the porridge, bringing a spoonful to his mouth. He smiled gently at the heat. Even in such a simple dish, spice was worked in. That was something Zuko could admit to missing: the food.

He brought the mug to his lips, tipping it back to sip at the tea. “Hot leaf water,” he mumbled, shaking his head. Not nearly as good as Uncle’s.

—

Six days after his lover left, Sokka received a letter in Zuko’s careful pen. He smiled as he separated it from the bills and advertisements, catching Suki’s attention. “What’s got you smiling?” She asked.

“Zuko already wrote…” he sighed, tearing the letter open. It smelled overwhelmingly of ash and sandalwood, making Sokka consider that Zuko sprayed his cologne on it. It was carefully trifolded, and when he opened it, a pressed fire lily floated out.

_Sokka,_

_Apparently I pressed this flower when I was like, 12. The book I put it in was still under my bed. Thought you might like it.  
I miss you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. It’s been fourteen hours and I already hate it here. It’s such a first world problem, but I might complain about it anyways. We’ll see how I feel by the end of this letter.   
Even in the fire nation, the bed’s cold without you. Agni, that’s so cheesy. Is that too cheesy? Probably. But in the grand scheme of things, I’m finally at a comfortable temperature. Anyways. They took my phone, that’s why I’m writing like a dumbass. If not, I would have called you already. I miss hearing your voice.   
I covered up all the mirrors. Are you disappointed? They just remind me of you now. It isn’t my reflection anymore, I don’t think. Fuck, I really can’t think straight. I’ve already got like, six hours of work to do. I’m tempted to do it all wrong, but father will kill me. I’ve only talked to him twice and both of them were tense. No threats yet, but I’m waiting for it.   
Azula hasn’t been as bad as I thought she would. She made me eat, so it looks like she’s not going to kill me… that’s a big yet, though.   
Anyways.  
I’m so sorry I left. If you guys hadn’t been there, I’d keep arguing (and probably get myself killed) but I couldn’t risk her killing any of you. I miss you. I miss you so damn much. I haven’t even been gone for that long, isn’t that pathetic? Agni, I even miss Katara. I’m sure she’s pretty indifferent to my absence, though. Tell her I’m sorry in particular. I mean, tell everyone, but her especially.   
I’ve got people doting on me here. It’s so uncomfortable. All the servants are scared of me. A boy dropped a tea cup when he was taking it out of my room, and I really think he thought I was going to kill him. He just about cried when I told him it was fine and to just grab the broom. I hated it. He wouldn’t let me help him clean it up.   
I really do miss you. I’m sorry if that’s getting repetitive. I’ll try to write as often as I can. I promise. _

_I love you.  
Zuko ___

Sokka carefully picked up the flower, tears brimming his eyes. “I love this man so fucking much,” he mumbled, earning a sad smile from Suki.

“What does it say?”

“It’s kinda just telling me he’s ok. And that he misses me. A lot.” He wiped his eyes a bit.

_Zuko_

_Ah, fuck, do I have to like, address you properly now? Prince Zuko? I don’t know. I’m dumb, you know that.  
I miss you too. I’m sorry that you had to go. I’ve spent the last week just crying, if I’m honest. I’m staying with Suki, too. I don’t really wanna be in our dorm right now, it’s too much.   
I love you too. I love you so much. Fuck, I’m really sorry about this mess. I shouldn’t have left you out when I knew the navy was here. I can’t help blaming myself. Even if it wasn’t my fault.   
I’m not as good at words as you are. I’m sorry it’s short. I know you know what I’m getting at. I don’t know. I’m driving myself crazy missing you. I’m so sorry. I love you so, so so much. _

_Sokka. ___


	13. Open Windows, Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I lost track of how many chapters I’ve posted today but I had a lot of these pre-written so like. Take them. Quarantine content

It had been three months, and he’d hated it. He’d hated being in such proximity to death, to war, to his family. But in the end, he was the same coward he’d always been. Zuko couldn’t bring himself to leave again. He was terrified of what his father would do if he did. What _Azula _would do.__

They had been sailing for six hours, now. Zuko stood at the capstan of the boat, his elbows resting on the steel before him. He was staring into the blackened waters as they approached Ba Sing Se, something about checking the occupying captains and their men. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t really care. Azula had just dragged him along, this was her deal. Zuko had been forced into strategy, as was his expertise when it came to the city.

The moon was full, staring back at him from the reflection, distorted by the rippling waves. He had to smile faintly, remembering what Sokka had told him about that night Zhao had attacked the Northern Tribe, about Princess Yue. She bathed the approaching port in soft blue light, though there was only darkness on the navy vessel.

“You’re stewing,” Azula piped up behind him, her heeled boots clicking against the steel of the deck.

“What does that mean?” Zuko scoffed, his smile falling. He didn’t turn to look at his sister, his eyes keeping trained on the sea. She patted (more of swiped) at his shoulder, waving away the steam rolling off of him in waves.

“You’re upset,” she remarked casually.

“I’m always upset, Az.”

“You’re not upset when you talk about that water tribe boy,” she hummed, joining him in looking at the night. Zuko didn’t respond. She stared at him for a moment. “You’re not thinking of going to see him while you’re here, are you?” She asked incredulously.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted. “What is it to you?”

“I don’t think the college would take kindly to several fire nation guards showing up on campus.”

“And what makes you think I would be taking any guards?”

“You’re the heir to the throne, Zuzu. That’s an assassin’s wet dream.”

It drew a small laugh from the prince, who just shook his head. “I have my ways of getting through this city unnoticed,” he shrugged. “My biggest concern would just be getting off of the damn boat.”

“You’d have to swim,” she shrugged. “Or wait until we dock.”

“The sun will have come up by then,” he reminded. It was odd how much the siblings had bonded again during the time Zuko had been home. He still thought Azula was crazy, but slightly less so.

“Then go tomorrow night. Most of the crew will be with me in West Shaiyun by then,” she suggested. Zuko merely shrugged, though Azula could see the agreement in his eye. “Just go to sleep, for now. You’re so grumpy when you’ve deprived yourself of it.”

“As if you’re not worse on a full 8 hours,” he jabbed, standing up. He looked up at the moon, offering her a small smile before he returned to his quarters.

—

Sokka was finally sleeping okay again. He’d physically settled back in, even if his head was sick with absence and grief. He’d been assigned a new roommate, a kid named Shohin from the upper ring. They had fallen into some kind of routine, though it wasn’t nearly as tender or peaceful as Zuko’s presence. Both boys were asleep, the beds of the dorm once again separated and on opposite sides of the room. Unluckily, Shohin was a much lighter sleeper than Sokka.

When the window clicked open late at night, as it so often had done in the past, The Blue Spirit was met with a knife at his throat. Once steadying himself, he raised his hands, to prove he was unarmed. He then brought a finger to the lips of the mask, praying to Agni whoever this was would back off.

Shohin stared at him for a moment, seeming to debate upon letting him enter. This was the Blue Spirit, after all, but he didn’t love the idea of a stranger in their dorm. He surrendered, eventually, taking a few steps back.

The spirit nodded some, carefully stepping through. The dorm had fallen into a mess without his meticulous and habitual cleaning to keep it organized. He stepped over a pile of clothes, having to shake his head slightly. They couldn’t have found someone more suitable for Sokka?

Slowly, he knelt by the water tribe boy, gently placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. Sokka groaned, pushing him away. “Fuck off, it’s late…” he mumbled. It earned a soft laugh from the Spirit.

“Sokka,” he whispered, though it was muffled under the wood of the mask. “Hey, buddy.”

Sokka’s eyes slowly opened, registering what was before him. He blinked a few times, before a huge grin split across his face. He quickly pushed himself up. “Zu— you came back,” he mumbled, pulling the other’s mask up to press a haphazard kiss to his lips.

The Prince giggled softly against his lips, hugging Zuko close. “Hey,” he muttered, pulling back after a moment.

“What are you doing here?” Sokka asked, tears welling in his eyes.

“Azula dragged me out to visit Mai’s colony,” he explained softly. Behind them Shohin had dropped his knife, peeking around to see the stranger’s face.

“What the hell are you doing here, Fire Nation scum?” He asked, his knife back up.

“Woah, woah, dude, he’s chill,” Sokka babbled.

“He’s the _prince of the enemy, _” Shohin hissed.__

“He’s also my boyfriend and could kick your ass in a knife fight.”

“I didn’t bring my knives,” Zuko remarked dully. “But my sister knows I’m here, so if I go missing…”

“Wait,” panic drowned Sokka’s voice. “Azula knows you’re here?”

“She’s… it’s a long story. Don’t worry, she won’t kill us. Promise.” Sokka hesitated, but had relaxed nonetheless, pulling Zuko to sit beside him in the bed.

“How are you doing?” He asked, taking his hand.

“Oh, I fucking hate it,” Zuko rolled his eyes. “More than I thought I would.” He looked down, rubbing his good eyes. “I’ve got some new cool scars, though,” he remarked dryly. “With no Katara to come help me.”

“If I ever get the chance to kill your dad…”

“You won’t.”

“I know…” he kissed his head gently. “Just come back…”

“I want to,” Zuko promised. “But I can’t risk you all, I can’t get myself back on the wanted list of the fire Nation. He’ll kill you if I leave. That was the deal.”

“You’re the most talented firebender I know—”

“The only firebender you know,” Zuko corrected. “I’ve already lost an Agni Kai with him. You saw where that got me.”

“...listen. It’s not just me, Zu… people here need you. Crime spiked, and—” he paused, looking at the window. His voice dropped. “Look, we… we found the Avatar.” Zuko’s eye widened. “And he needs a firebending teacher. How’s that for a reason? Is that enough to get you to leave?”

“Sokka, I…”

“We tried Jeong Jeong. He even snuck into the Academy up north. Nothing is working. If there’s any chance to kill your dad, Zuko..”

“You’re kind of dropping a bomb on me right now, Sokka.”

“A bomb is what it’s gonna take to get you to come back, and we both know that.” He held Zuko’s face in his hands. “Please, ‘Ko…”

The room fell into silence. Shohin was doing his best to figure out what was happening right now. One: Prince Zuko was the Blue Spirit. Two: Sokka was dating Prince Zuko. Three: Prince Zuko was in the fire nation against his will. Four: apparently Sokka knew the Avatar.

“If I die trying to get away, you can’t blame yourself.” Zuko decided.

“I would totally blame myself, but that’s okay, because you won’t die.” Sokka offered a teary smile. “Please, Zuko, I need you back.”

Zuko rested his head against Sokka’s, closing his eyes. “Tell my Uncle what I plan to do… I’ll be a traitor, Sokka. Are you sure you want to be involved in this?”

“I promise I do.”

Zuko pressed one last kiss to his lips, squeezing his hand gently, before he replaced his mask, leaping from the window.

“What… just happened?” Shohin asked.

“We can talk about it when he comes back, okay?” He asked, giving a sleepy smile.


	14. Tea and Failure

“You’re awfully happy.”

When Azula had walked back onto the boat, Zuko was out to watch the rising sun. He had gotten back into his regalia, sipping a cup of tea that looked much better than his regular morning cup of jasmine.

“It’s nothing,” Zuko hummed, shrugging his shoulders. “I hit a tea shop I like… much better than the stuff we keep in the palace.”

“I see more there,” she murmured, her voice defiant to his reasoning. “But I’ll leave you be, _loverboy _.”__

“Call me that again and I’ll chop your hand off,” he deadpanned. She merely laughed, even though she knew he was entirely serious. He offered the cup to her, to which she reluctantly took. She sipped at it, raising her brows in a reluctant pleasure.

“Not bad,” she remarked, handing it back over. “What is it?”

“Butterfly Pea Tea with lavender and licorice root.”

“I’ve no clue what most of that means,” she nodded. “We’re starting home, to help raise the anchor.”

“I’m not crew, Az, I am _not _going to break my back pulling the anchor.”__

“Weakling,” was all she hummed, rising to her feet to leave.

-

Once back home, he was greeted by Eraya with a fresh cup of tea and a snack. Zuko smiled softly at her, closing his door behind him. “You beat me here,” he chuckled. She smiled weakly, nodding.

“I figured you would be hungry, My Prince,” she replied, setting the tray down on his nightstand.

“That, I am,” he tilted his head. His smile slowly faded, bringing a panic to Eraya’s face.

“Have I done something wrong?” She asked, gritting her teeth.

“No! Agni, no. You’ve done nothing but well, I promise,” he shook his head. “But… tell me, Eraya. Are you happy here?”

“What do you mean, Your Highness?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“In the palace, I mean,” he gestured around. “Serving my Father, my Sister, the nobles. I know it’s considered an honor to work with the royal family, but tell me. Are you happy here?” He asked, making his way to the balcony.

“Is… anything I say going to be used against me?”

“No, I’m not so cruel. I would appreciate an honest opinion.”

“Your father… he is cruel. Immensely so. Your sister, well, she has lightened up since your return. But… no. I can’t say I’m happy. But it keeps the lights on and food on the table for my husband and daughter. I don’t mind serving you, my Prince. But…”

“If I weren’t here,” he conjectured, “if you’re duties resumed what they had been, would you be miserable?”

“After your kindness… yes, I… I think I would.”

Zuko was quiet for a few moments. “Then, Eraya, I’m formally relieving you of your duties, until the comet has passed.

“I— I’m sorry?”

Zuko turned around, taking her hands. “You’ve grown on me, and I hate to think about what my father would do to you if I were gone. I’ll make sure your finances are taken care of until your reinstatement, I promise. Please, just trust me on this.”

“Wh— but you aren’t gone. You’re right here.”

“For now, I am. I’m going to leave, and things will be worse than how they are. Take anything of value from this room, sell it, and I’ll send whatever I can. Do you understand me? I’m not going to say anything else. You need to trust me.”

“I… I trust you,” she nodded. “Thank you, your highness.”

“Please, just Zuko. I’m not going to be royalty for much longer.” He reached up to pluck his headpiece out, allowing his hair to fall in front of his eyes. She watched quietly as he set it down, packed his swords on his back. “Be safe, Eraya.”

“And you… Zuko.”

He smiled sadly, leaving the room without another word. He made his way to where he knew his father would be, hopefully alone. He stepped into the secondary throne room, closing the doors behind him.

“Prince Zuko,” Ozai greeted, irritably. He clearly wasn’t pleased to have been interrupted by his least favorite child.

Zuko kept some distance away, bowing slightly. “Father,” he replied, no emotion in his voice.

“What do you need?”

“I wanted to ask a question, if it would be allowed.” he clasped his hands behind his back.

“We’ll see if it’s out of line, then. What do you need to know?”

Zuko gulped, looking up to meet his eyes. “I know you were reluctant to reinstate me, and only did so due to my work as a Vigilante.” Ozai arched a brow. “I must ask, if you’ve gotten what you wanted from this decision.”

“I suppose I have,” Ozai murmured, clasping his hands in his lap. “You have proved to be a useful asset, when it comes to business in the city.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Zuko sighed. “However, I will have to cut my progress short.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve decided to return to my life of exhilation,” he announced. He could see the anger flare up on Ozai’s face. “I plan to return to Uncle, to beg for his forgiveness— He’s been more of a father to me than you have ever, _ever _been.” he said the last bit with enough venom to kill a man.__

“Is that so? That’s just beautiful,” he mused, a sarcastic amusement floating through his voice. “Perhaps he can teach you the ways of tea and _failure _.” Zuko let out an angry sigh, knowing he had to keep his temper in check.__

“But,” he interrupted, “I’ve come to an even more important decision.” he looked up, balling his hands into fists. “I’m going to join the Avatar. And I’m going to help him defeat you. I want to see your body lifeless at his feet.”

Ozai, the bastard, actually _laughed. _“Oh, really?” he cackled. “Well, since you’ve gone full traitor now, and you want me gone, why wait? Kill me now. Do it yourself.”__

Zuko smiled slightly. “I know my destiny, Ozai,” he spat, finally ripping away the respect the name ‘father’ gave him. “But it’s the avatar’s destiny to kill you. Not mine.” he turned on his heel, closing his eyes. “Goodbye.” he began towards the door, the one that led to an exit not many knew existed.

“Coward!” Ozai taunted. “You think you were finally brave enough to challenge me, and you don’t even have the sense to fight.” as Zuko reached the door, he gave one last attempt to anger his son. “Don’t you want to know what happened to your _mother _?”__

Zuko stopped dead in his tracks.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, turning to face the Fire Lord.

“Don’t you want to know,” he repeated, “What happened to your mother?” Zuko stayed silent, letting Ozai continue. “Your grandfather had a wonderful plan, you know, to get the better of my children on the throne. He knew you wouldn’t hold a candle to your sister as the Fire Lord. I was to kill you.” he chuckled quietly. “But your mother found out. Her...maternal instinct...ruined it. She did terrible, treasonous things that night. And she knew the punishment for treason… so she banished herself before I had the chance to do so myself.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, wetting his lips nervously. “She’s alive.”

“Perhaps… but, you know what?” he mused. “I believe that the punishment of banishment is too light. Yours… yours will be much more… permanent.”

Just as fast as his element, Ozai created two whips of lightning at his fingertips. Zuko’s eyes widened. That was the quickest formation of lightning he had ever seen. As the electricity shot towards him, in his panic, he managed to get into the proper stance to redirect the attack. It pushed him back, zapping around him as he got a handle of it. Once he did so, though, he easily turned it back to the Fire Lord. Though, true to his neglect to kill Ozai, he simply struck the ground before him. It was enough to send the Lord back against his wall.

“He’s taught me the ways of tea, failure, and _combat _,” Zuko muttered, finally making his leave, to steal a ship back to Ba Sing Se.__


	15. Take Me Home

Shohin had been left in the dark since the Blue Spirit had visited their dorm. None of Sokka’s friends would speak on the situation, clamming up whenever he asked. It had put the boy in a sour mood, which had gotten him sent home early from work.

Sokka was at his own workplace, so when Shohin entered the dorm with groceries, he fully expected to be alone. He began to put away the food he brought, humming quietly as he did.

“I never got your name.”

The boy just about screamed, whipping around to face the intruder. He reached for the closest weapon, which happened to be a fork. “Who’s there?!” He called.

“Hey, hey, chill out,” he was greeted by Zuko’s head popping around the corner. “It’s just me. Sorry, no phone, or else I would have warned you.”

Shohin stared for a solid minute and a half, finally dropping the fork to speak. “You’re the prince of the richest Nation in the world. How do you not have a phone?”

“You know, suspect to traitor,” he shrugged, standing to enter the kitchenette. “Well. Traitor. Just traitor.”

“I am so glad you didn't get yourself killed,” Shohin sighed. “Sokka would never shut up about it.”

“Right you are,” Zuko chuckled. “I'm fine. Where is he, by the way?” Zuko asked.

“Work,” Shohin shrugged. “So, since you're probably the only one who’s gonna break down and tell me, what the fuck is going on?”

“Sokka will probably explain it better, probably without an emotional breakdown. But I'll give you a quick rundown…” he sighed. “I got kicked out of the fire nation seven years ago, tried to hunt down the avatar for three, finally settled down in hiding, moved in here two years back, started doing vigilante work,” he took a breath, “Killed Admiral Zhao, my dad saw and took me back, it was miserable, so I just kinda.. uh, may or may not have struck my dad with lightning, commandeered a naval ship, came in through the window, and here I am.”

“That’s… heavy.”

“Welp, that’s the light load. Did you guys keep any of my alcohol?”

“Yeah, it’s under Sokka’s bed.”

Zuko disappeared into the room for a moment, grabbing a bottle of nearly emptied white wine. He finished it off, then heading back to the kitchenette.

“So…” Shohin began, tossing some microwave food in the requisite appliance. “I didn't know Sokka was… taken.”

“I guess you can't really go around name-dropping bastardized fire nation royalty as your significant other,” Zuko hummed, clueless to the carefully treated distaste in Shohin’s voice.

“I mean,” the boy began. “Like, he didn't mention… anything,” he shrugged. “And he seemed to flirt with other people a whole lot…”

Zuko, socially inept as always, just offered a smile. “That's kind of just his personality, you know? You can kinda tell when it's a friendly kinda… Interaction? Once you've seen his more sincere… I'm not good at words,” he laughed softly.

“Soooo… you're absolutely sure he wasn't messing around with anyone while you were playing prince?”

Zuko finally saw what he was getting at, furrowing his brow. “Why, are you inciting he did?” He turned to face Shohin. “Sokka’s not a dog.”

“Listen, man, I'm just telling you what I know! I just—” he paused when the door was pushed open.

“Sho, who are you—” his eyes lit up when he looked in. “Zuko!” He squealed, dropping his bag to tackle the prince in a hug. Zuko’s defensive tone was gone in a flash. “You made it!” He pressed an excited kiss to the prince's lips.it earned him a happy giggle. “You smell weird.”

“Sorry,” Zuko hummed. “It’s lightning.”

“Lightning smells?” He quirked his head aside.

“You're smelling it right now, you dumbass,” he chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Azula wiped your record from the Fire Nation’s database, and she's the only one that. n find us directly. We should be safe,” he assured.

“Is she… good now?”

“She’s good. She helped me out. How was work?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that? You get here for the first time in three months, and you ask me how work is?”

“Come on, you dunce. I'm a good boyfriend, occasionally.”

“You're always a good boyfriend. Sit down and tell me about what was going.”

Zuko nodded, sighing and plopping down on the couch. “Uhhh, I fired my maid, so she wouldn't get blamed for my desertion. Told my father I was leaving, learned my mother might be alive, got struck by lightning, sent back that lightning, stole my own ship, and climbed into the window.”

Sokka stared for a moment. “How the hell do I unpack that?”

“You don't,” he shrugged. “Just take it and… forget it, I guess?” Zuko sighed heavily, leaning against Sokka’s chest. “Forget that, tell me about the Avatar. I've been searching for him for, Agni knows how long, and you just—”

“It’s Aang,” he interrupted bluntly. “Aang’s the Avatar.”

“You're… you're fucking kidding me. He’s sixteen!”

“Hundred and sixteen. It’s…” he sighed. “Katara and Toph are training him in earth and water. It’s going well. But fire…”

“I know, I know. I teach him. But that’s definitely a tomorrow problem. I need sleep and kisses.”

“Of course. Let’s get you in clothes that won't poke my eyes out…” he stood up, kissing his head. “Lil’ space heater…”

“I'm begging you to never call, me that again,” Zuko frowned.

“No promises,” he hummed happily. He dragged Zuko into the bedroom, digging out one of his old t shirts. “Your highness,” he offered.

“Dear Agni, I don't think I'll ever be able to take royal treatment again. I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

“Talk about a first world problem,” he chuckled. He watched Zuko get into more comfortable clothes, dragging him back into bed. “Time for shitty mattress sleep.”

“I’ll take a shitty mattress if I can hold you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You won’t hate Shohin... forever.


	16. Sifu Hotman

“ _Sooo~ _” Aang hummed, doing his best to fill the silence as the group made their way to a place it would be impossible to see the pluming fire that was about to ensue. “When’s the last time you firebent?” It was an honest question, though. Sokka had mentioned how Zuko had been keeping his element subdued for years. Zuko glanced over, flicking his hands off and shoving them into their pockets.__

“Are you talking like… practice? Sparring? Combat?” Zuko asked, his voice uneven and shaky. He wasn’t keen on talking about his bending, especially in front of _everyone _(including Shohin, who’d been sadly roped into this entire affair), but he supposed they were all about to watch him teach Aang.__

“Hum, combat?” Aang tossed. Zuko pressed his lips together, sighing gently.

“Monday. Had to fight my way to a ship,” he shrugged. “I've been trying to get back on my old practice regimen, though. So, that’s like, three times a day.”

“...Wow, that’s… a lot. Are you going to make me practice that much?”

“I’m sure you’ve got a lot more raw talent… probably not.” The answer made Aang sigh in gentle relief.

“When do you have time to practice that much?” Aang asked, looking around as they made their way to a stony clearing that Toph used for practice. It was surrounded by a wall of trees, which would hopefully hide them from the city at the base of the mountain. And, of course, Katara was ready to help put out any rogue flames.

“Sunrise, noon, and sunset.”

“Nothing at night?”

“Bending at night is hard,” he began simply, setting his bag down at the edge of the clearing. “Fire is inherently connected to the Sun. It’s so important to our culture, that the first Fire Lord was chosen by the Sun himself. It’s thought that every eldest born of the royal family has the fire of the sun in his veins, making them more powerful benders.” He looked up at the bright sky, sighing gently. “Don’t think that one is true for me, though. I think Azula got his blessing…” he shook his head. “But it’s the same while you drag it back to the rest of the family. Besides my father, every Fire Lord was the eldest, and the more powerful. But the bastard stole the throne,” he sighed. “Sorry. That’s beside the point.”

“It’s interesting,” Aang offered.

Zuko hummed softly, closing his eyes. “Bending under the moon is dependent on siphoning what little sunlight reflects off of it. Kind of similar to waterbending, just by a different element.” he began towards the center of the clearing, away from the shade. “How far did you get with Jeong Jeong?”

“Not past breathing,” Aang huffed bitterly.

“Then it’s more breathing.” he sat down, crossing his legs in a lotus, and gesturing for Aang to do the same. “Breathing is integral to firebending. Oxygen is the fuel for an inner fire, but there’s so little of it in the air these days that you really need to focus on it. Think of it like blood.”

Aang groaned as he explained. He was overzealous, for sure. He just wanted to get right to bending. Besides, he knew a lot about air, _in his professional opinion _.__

“Think of it like filling the bottom of your lungs first, if that makes any sense,” Zuko explained softly. “It’s thought that your flame lies right over your heart. So the easiest way to create fire, is to breathe it out.” he inhaled quietly, holding the air in for a few seconds. When he let it out, it came with bright orange flames escaping from his lips, dissipating after a second or two. “It’s an easy way to familiarize yourself with the element.”

“ _Woah, _” Aang gasped. Logically, yes, he knew Zuko could firebend. But to see it, and this close, it was really jarring.__

Zuko chuckled softly, looking up. “Go into kind of… opposite meditation. The goal is to, instead of relaxing yourself, to get your emotions going. Anything passionate. Most firebenders use anger to level their element, because that’s the easiest for us to feel. But… love, fear, happiness, they can all get you into the same headspace.”

Aang nodded, sighing softly before closing his eyes. He found himself forgetting the things he had learned from Jeong Jeong and the Academy, just because Zuko’s advice made so much more sense. It incorporated his native element and practices, and that made it easy. The prince watched him, propping himself up on his knee. It didn’t take long for him to get the knack of it, though. Aang’s fire was a darker orange than Zuko’s, which… he couldn't tell if that made sense. On one hand, he expected Aang’s fire to be hotter because he was the, you know, _fucking Avatar, _but then, he supposed, he wasn’t native to fire. He was native to air.__

“Good,” Zuko hummed, his voice encouraging. “Really good. Keep that going for a while, okay? It will help later.” Aang beamed at the praise as Zuko pushed himself to stand, approaching the others to allow the Avatar some space. He went for his bag to get something or other, but was instead pulled into Sokka’s lap. He silenced his yelp, covering his mouth. “You little shit,” he muttered.

“You love me~” Sokka cooed, peppering several kisses on his jaw and neck.

“Agni, keep it in your pants for once,” Zuko scowled, pushing him away. There was a tone of affection in his voice, though. “Dumbass.”

“Come on, babes. Teaching reward.”

“Too early, fucker. I'm just letting him practice for a minute. I’m going to make him take a few katas before sundown.”

“And after sundown?” Sokka pouted softly.

“ _After _sundown, I’m going to see Uncle.” he pulled away from Sokka to stand, shaking his head.__

Sokka tapped his lips, tilting his head. “Say, can your Uncle bend?” Zuko scoffed in response.

“Can he bend? He was supposed to be the Fire Lord. If my dad didn’t fuck him over, we probably wouldn’t still be in this war, and I bet you my cousin would already be on the throne,” he shook his head. “He taught me a lot more than my dad, even my tutors, ever did.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching Aang practice. When the colors of the flame brightened, Zuko rose back up to approach him. “You’re picking this up _way _too quickly to be any fair,” he teased. “Up.” Aang scrambled to stand up, rolling his shoulders back. “I bet you we have time for a couple katas before sunset.” he backed up to stand across from him. “These ones are easy. You’ve probably seen them before. He stood up straight, turning to the side, he pulled his fists facing upwards to his side. “Take one normal punch,” he explained, slowly going through the motion. He dragged his right leg into a shallow lunge as the same arm extended out. “Then you step through to the exact same thing on the other side, and let your hand extend flames.” he reset his position, performing the kata at full speed. His second punch created an impressive wave of fire, the light dancing against his skin. “The idea is to build up momentum with that first motion. Keep things rigid, yeah?”__

Aang nodded some, shaking out his body. He repeated the kata a few times slowly, then at full speed. He couldn’t seem to get any sparks going, though, which visibly frustrated the boy. Zuko did nothing to calm or assure him, just smiling a bit. The frustration actually helped, as the anger built, his form became better. And with his emotions full up, he finally got out the desired effect.

The prince had to laugh at the excitement that immediately covered Aang’s face. “I did it!” he cheered.

“There you go, try to get five more.”

Aang nodded, beginning to do as he had been instructed. He didn’t get flame every time, but eventually built up five. Zuko nodded, folding his arms. “Okay, one more form. Simple horizontal kick,” he explained, then performing the move. “Keep your foot flexed, and keep your spine straight.”

“Got it,” Aang hummed happily. It was easier to get the flames in this move. Half because he had figured out the punch, half because legs were always stronger than arms. He preened at Zuko’s proud smile. Laughing softly, the prince pressed his palm against his opposite fist to bow.

“You did good. You can try to keep going into the night, if you really want. But I have no clue how much sunlight you’ll be able to get.”

“It’s barely waxing,” Katara called, cupping a hand to her mouth. “You’d probably be better off waiting.”

“I guess I won’t, then,” Aang hummed, returning the bow. “Thank you, Sifu Hotman.”

Zuko’s smile fell. “For the love of Agni, please don’t ever call me that again.”

It was only met with a laugh as the two approached the others.


	17. Tea After Hours

Sokka didn't particularly love that Zuko had to part his hair to cover his scar. Don’t get him wrong, the prince was still cute as all hell, but there was some sadness that came with knowing that everyone saw him as the enemy now. Before, even though it was jarring, his scar was rather innocuous. It didn’t paint him as anything. When people saw him, they just thought ‘that kid who works at the tea shop’ or ‘that boy in 8 AM classes’. Now, when someone caught a glimpse at the mauled flesh, shiny and formed in puddled ridges, it told everyone exactly who he was. The prince of the fire nation. A threat. A traitor, a coward. One of them. Everything about him was now fairly recognizable, even his name. Which he had to chuck for now to go by a pseudonym.

It didn’t help that Sokka found the feature ridiculously attractive. It was that whole trope in movies where a scar brought interest or sex appeal to a character, except right before his eyes. But that wasn’t the point, he supposed. Even if it _was _crazy hot.__

The two arrived at the Jasmine Dragon just after closing. There was no one there aside from Iroh and a girl he had hired in Zuko’s absence. She was cleaning the counter, humming quietly. When the bell above the door tinkled quietly, she immediately began into, “I’m sorry, we’re closed. We open at eight tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Zuko cleared his throat. “Is Iroh still awake?” He asked. The girl cocked a brow, seeming suspicious.

“May I ask what business you have with him…?”

“Oh, I’m family.”

“He… doesn’t have any.”

“Please,” Zuko sighed, his exasperation palpable in Sokka’s hand as his skin heated up. “Just get him down here.”

She sighed, turning on her heel to approach the back room. It took a moment, but Iroh finally appeared behind the counter, grinning ear-to-ear. “Nephew!” He gushed, opening his arms for a hug.

“Hey,” Zuko chuckled softly, letting go of Sokka to wrap his arms around the other.

“I’m so glad you made it! Are you hurt?”

“Just a little bit. Not anything you wouldn’t expect…” he shook his head, patting Iroh’s back. “All good, though. Nothing too scarring.”

“When it comes to you and your father,” Iroh shook his head. “I often _expect _something scarring.”__

“Oh, _ha ha _,” Zuko rolled his eyes, smiling some. “Is it too late for a cup of tea?”__

“It is never too late for a cup of tea,” he grinned. He looked over to the boy behind them. “Sokka, do you have any special requests?”

“Nothing in particular!” Sokka hummed, snaking his hand around Zuko’s waist.

“By the way,” Zuko hummed as Iroh put the kettle on the stove. “Az told me she liked that butterfly mix I got last month.”

“I take it you two are on speaking terms then, yes…?” he asked.

“Yeah, actually,” Zuko shrugged. “I actually nulled the restraining order for the city. Well, Father actually made me, but that isn’t the point.”

“You don’t plan to reinstate it,” Iroh clarified.

“No, I don’t. She actually might visit to help with my training— well, his training, you know what I mean.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sokka asked, squeezing Zuko’s hand. “I mean, it isn’t that I don’t trust your judgement. But I don’t trust her.”

“I know you don’t,” he smiled softly. “But she’s talented, you know that…”

“She is,” Iroh interjected, pouring the tea into the pot to steep. “My niece may be crazy, but she got her father’s talent.”

“She’s still _crazy _,” Sokka tilted his head. “She pushed me into a river last year.”__

“Sounds like her,” Iroh nodded.

“May I interject…?” The girl, who Zuko still hadn’t been properly introduced to. “I didn’t know you had any family, sir.”

“Because they are all psychopaths. Oh, this is Iva, she has been helping around the shop since you went home.” Iva waved, making the two smile.

“Lee,” Zuko introduced, the name still jarring Sokka. “Not quite as crazy as the rest of the family.”

“You’re not crazy,” Sokka rolled his eyes.

“Like you aren’t an idiot,” Zuko grinned.

“That was a low blow,” he clicked his tongue, turning to Iva. “I’m Sokka.”

“I know, your sister is my tutor for a few classes.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Zuko nodded.

“Tui and La, will you two ever get along? She’s saved your life twice.”

“Because you would have chewed her out if she hadn’t.”

“What’s this I hear about life-saving? What happened?” Iroh asked.

“Your nephew’s got a habit of being stabbed.” Zuko elbowed him in the side, covering Sokka’s mouth.

“Oh, I know,” Iroh grinned. “Speaking of, I heard there were a handful of assassination attepts while you were home.”

“Oh, that,” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean, _oh, that? _” Sokka’s jaw dropped. “I heard nothing of any assassination attempts!”__

“Oh, you know. One of them was Jet, actually.” he grinned. “I kicked his ass.”

“Okay, that makes up for it.”

The four ended up sitting down to drink the tea together. The conversations were easy, even for Iva, who had no clue what was going on. Even when Sokka spilled tea on her, it was all laughs and smiles. It was almost enough to forget about the traumatic past few months. Most of them hadn’t smiled like that in a long time.

Sokka and Zuko ended up staying over. With seeing his uncle again, Sokka, and a new friend, the prince slept well.


	18. Visitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo like. Shoutout to @BreakThisSpell626 for always commenting on my shit and keeping me going. Thanks buddy.

“This one is kind of like air bending, it should come say to you.” Zuko’s words were only faintly audible to their friends as they sat at the edge of the clearing, watching him and Aang practice. “Get down like this,” he got down on his knee, “kick your leg out and spin. Use the friction of your foot and the ground to help you out.” He then performed what he had described, a trail of fire lighting up out of his foot. “Uncle adapted it from an old air scroll, so you should be fine.”

“Okay!” Aang hummed, backing away from his teacher to make sure he wouldn’t hit him. Not that Zuko minded, he knew how hard it was to control fire, and Katara would just heal them after the lesson. But it was dark, and Zuko was weak. They had been practicing nights for a week straight now, and then the Blue Spirit went on patrol. The prince didn't have one hundred years of bottled energy to spend training. Bags had piled beneath his eyes, and if one looked closely, they could see the man shaking. He hadn't the strength to find fire in the darkness of the new moon, spending it all on that last kata. As he watched Aang practice a string of forms, he swayed slightly. Sokka was up the moment he saw it. Zuko felt his strong hands grab his shoulders, and he couldn't help but lean back into them.

“You're going to pass out,” he informed, frowning. “You're done for the day. For a while.”

“I'm fine, I'm just a little tired. Nothing a red bull can't fix.”

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked pointedly. Aang stopped mid-kata, to Zuko’s chagrin.

“Does it matter?” He asked, his shoulders steaming in frought.

“Have you not been sleeping after training?” Aang asked, frowning a bit.

“I work graves,” he murmured, shrugging a bit.

“Which you will not be doing tonight,” Sokka hummed.

“Sokka, that’s so irresponsible.”

“So is passing out. Especially when there’s fire, especially if you’re at work. Come on, if you cooperate, I’ll fuck you in the morning.” Zuko went bright red, shoving Sokka in the gut.

“That is _so inappropriate! _” he scolded.__

“But it works,” Sokka shrugged, beginning back off. Zuko covered his face, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” Aang murmured as they followed.

“Thank you,” Zuko huffed, folding his arms. He groaned quietly when Sokka wrapped his arm around his waist, flicking his head. “Fuck off, I’m mad at you.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Sokka whined.

“Shut up,” he hissed, folding his arms. It didn’t do much—Sokka thought he was adorable when he pouted like this. But he did comply, staying silent until he, Zuko, and Shohin got home.

Shohin would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having the prince around. The guy was a clean freak, and he always made sure the dorm was picked up. It sliced his rent in half, too. Even if he did have to deal with hearing them fuck every now and then—they normally had the common courtesy of waiting until he left for work or late classes.

True to their nightly routine, as soon as the door closed, Zuko was quietly clearing the other two’s messes of the day. It was mostly school stuff— recently, an architecture project Shohin and Sokka had been partnered up on. Sketches on blue paper scattered over the dorm, crumpled up in the garbage, around the desk. Then there were the empty crisp bags, energy drink cans, white printing pencils snapped in frustration.

The prince carefully folded their latest blueprint, filing it away with the rest of them. He couldn’t lie, say that seeing them excitedly chatter about materials and structures, didn’t light the tiniest bit of jealousy in his gut. He knew it had something to do with that conversation he and Shohin had had the first night he had returned home.

He used to work with Sokka like this, but he couldn’t return to his classes at the university without raising suspicions to his flimsy attempt to hide his identity. Instead, he had begun taking a few private tutors in the mornings, things that pertained to war and politics and other things he assumed he would need one day, when he was his Uncle’s advisor. It left little time for collaboration, other than when Sokka coerced him to talk about his studies at dinner.

He shook his head, sweeping the crumbs off of the desk into the bin. He worked in silence for a few minutes, until there were strong arms around his waist. He smiled, looking down at Sokka’s hands, then back to his face.

“Still mad at me?” He inquired.

“Not particularly,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Short fuse.”

“Was that… a joke? That just came from your mouth? Did I hear that right? Who are you, and what have you done to my Zuko?” He drilled, pasting an amused sternness on his face.

“Sorry, man, I killed him,” he shrugged, stealing another kiss from his lips. “Go get ready for bed, before I have to burn you into it.”

“There’s the firebender I know,” he hummed, turning to head into the bedroom. Zuko chuckled, shaking his head. He deposited all the trash in the bins beneath the sink. He then, finally breaking from his set routine, followed Sokka into the bedroom.

“Question,” he interjected. It was to Sokka, specifically, but he asked loud enough to get Shohin’s input, as well. They both looked to him expectantly. “Would it… be entirely out of the question to have my sister over at some point? There’s a reason, I promise—she wanted to discuss something that she didn’t want subjected to father checking her letters.”

“Something… like what?” Sokka asked skeptically.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “She’s in the city on official business tomorrow. I can go to her, technically, but it would be easier if she just came here.” Sokka and Shohin shared a suspicious look.

“Princess Azula,” Shohin began. “Of the fire nation.”

“Yes.”

“In our room.”

“Correct.”

“And you trust her not to burn the place down.”

“No?” He admitted. “I—I don’t know. She was worried about it. Like, jumpy. It was really odd. It seems important, and I just—“

“On one condition,” Sokka sighed. “If she does anything I don’t like, she leaves.”


	19. Family Drama

Unlike her brother, Princess Azula had no particularly recognizable marks decorating her features. So, when she showed up, Sokka didn’t even recognize her. It was actually rather impressive, if he were honest—all she had done was put on some pedestrian clothing and let her hair down, as well as skipping the makeup that day. She knocked three times on the room's door, before letting herself in. Even with no crown, she carried herself like a princess.

“Hey Az,” Zuko called nonchalantly. It was such a stark difference from how he had greete her the last time she’d shown up here, it was rather disturbing. He hadn't even looked up from the tablet he and Sokka were watching a so-bad-it's-almost-good horror movie. It was their compromise—Sokka hated horror, so they had to be bad enough that it couldn't be scary.

“Good morning, Zuzu,” she replied. Her eyes fell on the screen for a moment, scrunching her face up. “What in Agni’s name are you watching?”

“Some bullshit called _Friend Request _. It's bad,” Zuko answered. Sokka grabbed the remote, pausing the film to look over to the princess. There was suspicion painting all of his features, which she picked up on immediately. She just gave him a smirk, sitting down at their small table. Shohin poked his head out of the room, soon joining them to sit around the kitchenette.__

“Who’s this?” Azula asked, a tone of disinterest dripping from her lips.

“Shohin, he lives here. All good if he listens in?”

“I suppose,” she sighed, examining her nails for a moment. She polished them on her top, leaning back. “But I'll assume him guilty if news of this conversation makes its way back to father.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zuko waved away. “So, like, about that?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Father has… plans. For the comet,” she began.

“Of course he does,” Zuko cocked a brow.

“Comet?” Sokka interjected, looking between the two.

“He plans to release a new fleet,” Azula continued, ignoring the question. “To Ba Sing Se. And… Chu, and Si Wong, Siaw Jong, Kerkaw, Omashu, you see my point. He plans to replicate Grandfather’s actions.”

“...No. You’re kidding me, please tell me you're joking—”

“I don't joke, Zuzu, you know that. After he takes care of that, it’s just the Northern Water tribe, which will be easy.” She looked up to the boys. Zuko was the only one who was comprehending the gravity of what she was saying, speaking in riddles and snaked tongues. “As long as the Avatar doesn't show up, there's really nothing you can do.”

Sokka and Zuko exchanged a glance.

“Anyways, how has your bending been coming along?” She asked, seeming to drop the topic altogether. “Uncle tells me you've picked up the entirety of your old training regimen.”

“Uh… yeah. I have.”

“Lightning?”

Zuko flinched, sighing gently. “No progress.”

“How pathetic. Unabashed to calling you my brother… I'll train with you before I leave, if you like.”

“Sounds like an attempt to drag me into an impromptu Kai.”

“Oh, Zuzu, you wound me. I'd only bring you into the arena for the throne, and that won't be for a very long time, with how this war seems to be going.”

“You’re offering to help me… why?” He asked, sitting up fully.

“To level the playing field, dear brother.”

“Are you guys even speaking English?” Sokka interrupted. Zuko laughed softly, turning to kiss the side of his head. “I seriously have no clue what either of you are saying.”

“Don't worry about it, hon.” Then, to his sister. “I'll train with you, but only if it’s after sundown, and only if my friends are there.”

“Seems fair. However, that means I'm here until then.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Blow up some popcorn, and we have a deal.”

“Oh, what did you tell me, when I asked for your help on the ship?”

“Taken,” he sighed, leaning back into Sokka’s chest. “No bending until then. Sokka, text the others?”

“...Yeah, yeah, ok.”

—

“So, this is where you recuse yourself to bend?” Azula asked, kneeling down to swipe her finger in the dirt. “How sad.”

“We make do with what we have,” Zuko murmured. “Firebenders aren't exactly accepted in the city.”

“Not if you don't threaten them!” She chuckled, tying her hair up in a perfect little bun. “Now, father regretfully informed me that you can redirect.”

“I can.”

“Then we start there,” she hummed. With no additional warning, she raised her hand, extending two fingers. With a few smooth movements, the air around her hands began sparking blue. Zuko’s brows furrowed as he got in a proper stance to receive the electricity.

Now, from the sidelines, when Azula struck her brother with lightning, it looked bad. None of them were sure what the two were doing, and Zuko sure looked like he was about to die when the lightning hit his body. The force knocked him back, his boots sliding in the dirt. His hair stood on end as he tried to get a control of the element. Sokka gasped, sure that Azula had just pulled a fast one on them all.

Then, he got it. He extended his fingers to the dirt, allowing the electricity to exit his body and strike the earth. It was enough to form foggy glass from the silicon in the dirt.

If he strained, Sokka could hear what Azula said next.

“You seem to have decent control once it’s in your hands. You have a quick redirect with the current. It seems clear you'd be good at it—”

“If I could make it in the first place,” Zuko panted, pulling himself up and rolling his shoulders back. “But I can't separate anything.”

“You know how father always said you had too many emotions in that little head of yours?” Azula wondered aloud, tapping her lips with a smoking finger. “I think that’s your problem. It isn't like Fire, it’s really… the opposite. It requires a lack of emotion and a… peace. That's the best way I can describe it.”

“Those are two things I definitely do not have,” Zuko mumbled.

“Obviously. Sit and meditate for a moment. Get yourself under control,” she instructed dismissively, beginning towards the group on the sidelines.

“Hey, uh,” Sokka began. “What the _fuck _was that?”__

“Lightning, you peasant. What did it look like?” She rolled her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he began, placing his hands on his hips. “Last time I checked, Lightning isn't fire!”

“It’s a hyper-heated plasma. Basically the same thing.” She sat down with her back to Zuko. “He’s too emotional to generate it on his own.”

“Zuko is the least emotional person I know,” Aang remarked, frowning.

“Quite the contrary,” Azula shook her head. “He has a nasty predisposition to affection and empathy.”

“Not to mention all of the trauma and self hate,” Sokka added, folding his arms.

“No wonder Uncle couldn't get it through his thick skull,” she sighed. “I don't understand the ‘trauma’,” she punctuated with air quotes. “But it can't be helping.”

“You don't understand it because your dad actually liked you.”

“He had mother,” she defended. “Mother thought I was a monster. She was right, of course, but…”

“Did Ursa ever try to kill you?” He spat.

“Oh, please. Father dislikes him, but he never tried to kill him. Not on purpose, anyways.”

They all went silent, staring at her for a moment. “Wow, you're really ignorant to what goes on between them,” Katara furrowed her brows.

“Let’s see,” Sokka fumed, “there was that time when he was ten when he tried to murder him so he would be out of succession to the throne, which, by the way, got your mother banished for trying to save his life. Oh, then there was the entire fucking Agni Kai, where the only reason he didn't fucking kill him is because Iroh and the counsel stepped in. And then last month! You know, when he tried to set him on fire _yet again _for leaving the fire nation.” Sokka was angrier than he thought he had been in years. “And then there was you! Who also tried to kill him many, many times! He told me that one time, you showed up to ‘celebrate becoming an only child,’ and proceeded to throw him off of a goddamn cliff. And immediately after Ozai’s coronation, when you set his room on fire. And those are just the assassination attempts! What about that time you scorched the whole garden? Or that time Ozai snapped his femur? When you sabotaged his first date with Mai, leading him to close up for a decade! Or maybe, just maybe, being told he was lucky to be born! Getting blamed for Ursa’s banishment, sun deprivation, getting shoved in a cooler—of course the kid has trauma!” There were hot, angry tears streaming down his face now. The only reason he stopped talking, was because he was cut off by a flash of light, and a clap of thunder.__

“Hey, Az!” Zuko’s voice was giddy with excitement. “I got it!”


	20. Static

Not even Azula, master of passive aggressive egging, could muster up something to say. She was left with a dumbfounded expression as Sokka’s face went from angry to overjoyed as he ran over to her brother, tackling him in a hug. The complete, unhindered happiness between them was almost enough to make her jealous. Zuko’s hand was still smoking when he pushed Sokka off, giggling like mad. “Sokka,” he gasped between laughter, shaking his head. “You’re gonna make me shock you!”

“Awesome! Wonderful! I would let you shock me in a heartbeat. Cause you can shock me! That’s so cool! You just made fucking lightning!” He praised, forcing a blush up his cheeks. He knew Zuko adored the compliments, though he would never admit it. Sokka covered his face in kisses where he could, hugging onto him tightly.

“Got it, got it!” He laughed, scrambling away from him. “Don’t get too excited. It could have been a fluke,” he reasoned, dusting himself off.

“Then practice! It’s literally so cool! And your lightning was yellow! It was so pretty, Zu! You’re so pretty, too!”

“I am literally begging you to shut up, Sokka,” Zuko whined, shoving him away to cover his rapidly reddening face. “You’re not allowed to say any of that until I can do it reliably!” Sokka scrambled away, giving him two thumbs up.

“Then do it again!!” Sokka encouraged, plopping down a safe distance away. Zuko chuckled, dusting himself off and clasping his hands together. He took a breath, letting out in a slow and deliberate exhale.

The prince separated his hands, turning his wrists opposite to each other. He tried to recreate the separation for the second time, pulling his extended fingers in a circular motion. It took a moment, but golden sparks began fizzling at his fingertips, before there were small snakes of electricity zapping around his hands. He raised one hand to the sky, allowing the lightning to exit with a clap of thunder. It illuminated the sky for a moment, lighting everything in a warm light. Sokka watched with a dazed smile as the jagged bolt dissipated into the first cloud it met, lighting it in a similar manner. Zuko’s index and middle finger were left smoking, remnants of the lightning buzzing off of them to hit the ground. Sokka clasped his hands together, the pride dripping off of him. He didn’t know lightning bending existed until, but from what he’d gathered, he had tried and failed in the past. It was probably only due to his sister, who was finally calmed down enough to explain it in terms he understood, that he finally figured it out.

In any case, Zuko looked _so _proud of himself, his face illuminated by the bright light, his hair standing on edge from the residual electricity coursing through his veins. When there was nothing but smoke coming from his hands, Sokka ran back over, pressing a forceful kiss against the prince’s lips. He yelped when he felt a spark of static shock his tongue, before dissolving into laughter. “I told you I’d shock you!” Zuko grinned, letting Sokka smooth his hair back down onto his head.__

“It was kinda hot,” Sokka teased, kissing the tip of his nose. Azula audibly gagged from the sidelines, the sound dreadfully dramatic and forced. Zuko rolled his eyes, looking over to her.

“Come on, you got to ruin every good moment?” He whined, folding his arms over his chest.

“Of course I do. I’m your little sister,” she retorted.

“Funny,” Sokka tilted his head. “Cause _my _little sister seems awfully quiet…” the parallel forced a laugh out of Katara.__

“Oh, whatever,” Azula quipped. “I’ve fulfilled my promise, and now I intend to take my leave. I’ll see you under the comet, Zuzu,” she hummed, turning on her heel with her hands clasped behind her back. “Bring your lightning.”

Once she was far enough away, Aang found himself asking, “Was that a threat?”

“Definitely,” Zuko sighed.

“Ok— anyone gonna tell me about that comet?”

“It’s when we thought I was gonna fight Ozai,” Aang clarified.

Zuko’s eyes snapped up. “What do you mean, you thought? You’re still going to fight him under the Comet.”

“Well, what’s the point? It was to make sure that he wouldn’t take over Ba Sing Se, but he already did that.” Zuko’s eyes widened, and he took a few brisk steps towards the Avatar.

“No, that isn’t happening. The comet means the same thing as it did. The Fire Nation is still at its most powerful.”

“And?”

“ _And, _” Zuko seethed, “that means he’s still doing something. Something arguably worse. You remember what my grandfather did to your people? He wants to do it again. But to the Earth Kingdom, this time. Then he just has to wipe out the Northern Water Tribe, and the only benders left are you, and us. Get it? He’s going down under that comet.”__

“The… comet’s in three days, Zuko. I… don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Then make yourself ready,” he hissed. “Or else this entire Kingdom is turned to dust under his heel.”


	21. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has sent good wishes and love in relation to my update. We're looking at maybe getting me a personal driver to bring me between campuses throughout the day. Maybe it can be one of my friends.

Iroh’s decision to pass the throne and its privileges to Zuko was terrifying. Sokka felt horrible about it, to have to leave him alone with all that weight on his shoulders on a day-long boat trip with his sister, not to mention whatever happened after the comet. As he waited with Suki and Toph, he tapped his foot nervously. He reached up to rub his neck, watching as the girls more of just mentally prepped for the next day.

After a moment, his phone dinged with Katara’s text tones.

_Hey, this is Zuko. Kat went ahead and leant me her phone so I could get in touch. I'd call if I could get a fucking signal but I can't so far._

**_How are you holding up, baby?_ **

_Not well if I'm honest  
I have a feeling I'm going to have to fight her  
And honestly I don't know if I can beat her_

_**I doubt I can do anything but I'm gonna ask anyways is there anything I can do to help** _

_no_

_**Remember what Iroh tells you and what you tell Aang  
Breathe and focus and stuff  
We’ll deal with the city and Aang will deal with your dad. You just have to worry about Azula and you got closer didn't you ??? ** _

_I don't think it matters if I got close to her. She would kill Mai or Ty if it meant getting the throne  
I think it was her plan since our dad’s coronation, tbh   
To do exactly what dad did to get on the throne  
I don't think she would kill him tho  
Argh I'm rambling sorry it doesn't matter_

_**No, babes. Ramble, meditate, I don't give a shit do what you need to relax  
Please  
I need you to be in a good headspace when you get there** _

_I will say that I'm so happy katara agreed to come along  
Makes me feel safer?? Is that stupid?? Damage control???  
Idk I'll probably get some pretty bad burns and I don't need any more Agni Kai scars_

_**I don't think I could handle the sex appeal if you got a new scar ;))))))** _

_I hate u so much_

_**I love you too  
Go do some meditatin’ babes  
Get that munee** _

_🙄🙄🙄  
I love you   
If I die you can have my swords_

_**Don’t make promises you can't keep, Sifu Hotman, if I'm getting those swords it's cause I beat you in a super sexy fun sword fight  
Ya hear me?? ** _

_I’ll quote you on that.  
Thanks.   
I'm giving Kat her phone back now don't say anything stupid   
I love you_

He waited around ten minutes, until he knew the phone was back in his sister’s hands.

_**Katara, please, don't let him get himself killed** _

_I'll do what I can, Sokka, but I make no concrete promises. Give Aang a hug for me?_

_**Will do… stay safe. She’s a crazy bitch. Water is conductive so don't be a dumbass with her lightning.** _

_yeah yeah_

And that was where the conversation ended. If Sokka tried to send everything else, it got an error. The ship must have entered a dead zone. 

Katara sighed, her phone going dark as she turned it off to shove into her pocket. She approached Zuko, who was brooding on the side of the ship, resting her elbows on the metal that sat there. “He really loves you,” she remarked gently.

“I hope,” Zuko forced a laugh, rubbing his face.

“And you really love him.”

The two fell silent, just staring at the curved horizon, basking in the late evening sunlight.

“You know I hated you, I don't have to mention that,” Katara began, “And I was honestly ready to kill you when he told me you guys were dating. But, Tui and La, when everyone was over, you guys had love rolling off of you in waves,” she murmured. “Do you remember that night? You were drunk.”

“I remember saying something about my dad and everyone clamming up,” Zuko shrugged. “Vaguely winning at cards. Other than that, no.”

She chuckled softly, nodding. “I'm not sure what happened, but you had a bit of a breakdown after everyone left. And he just scooped you up, and pressed a bunch of kisses all over your face, made some dumb joke that you laughed at at some point. Spirits, you seemed so small. I always looked at you and thought of this scary, aggressive thing. But you were just curled up on his lap and whispering things…”

Zuko thought for a moment, leaning back on his heels. “I saw a burn I gave him,” he admitted. “When I don't sleep for long times… or when I'm having tons of blood loss, I get… I don't wanna call them hallucinations. Sokka calls them hallucinations. It's more like… like I get dropped back into the past. And I didn't see Sokka, this time, I saw my sister, and I got defensive. And I burnt his wrist. It was really minor, but I still feel pretty bad about it,” he sighed. “I burn him more than I wish to admit. When you were healing my bad wound, I burned handprints into his forearm because I lost track of my bending in the pain. Hell, one time I burnt his tongue when I kissed him.”

“I can't really relate, you know… we don't produce our element out of thin air. I never had to deal with that kind of stuff.”

“I hate it,” he mumbled. “Really, I do. I get angry, I get upset, something like that, and I just combust. Sokka told me that I was a matchbox by a fuse, once, before he even knew what… what I was. I guess I really just embody my element.”

“I have a feeling it’s because you're going to be the Fire Lord,” she hummed. “Like Agni was trying to tell you that it was gonna be you, not Azula.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” he chuckled, closing his eyes. “I hope that’s how it goes… fuck, I hope I don't have to kill her.” He looked down. “I hope I don't have to kill her.”


	22. Shattered Glass

Zuko may be able to produce lightning. But, he’d always done it after careful meditation, when he was calm, and blank. Never when he was this anxious, this terrified, this pitiful. This scared for his life, for Azula’s mind.

He didn’t even want to try to conjure lightning right now. Even if he got away with it, it would most certainly kill her. He had no clue if she knew how to redirect, or if she was thinking clearly enough to do it in the first place. He could see her mind in shambles behind her eyes, behind the choppy bangs, the manic attitude. Their father had finally broken her.

She was fighting how he used to fight, Zuko thought. Rushed, begging to prove something, pleading to gain approval from people who would never give it. She was trying so hard, in her twisted head, to be good.

Things towards the end had been a blur. For some reason, Katara had stepped on the field, and the next thing he knew, he was throwing himself in front of her, jolted by blue lightning. It was such an odd feeling, sizzling around in his veins, sparking in his ears. It clouded his vision, though he could barely keep his eyes open. There was ice, and then Azula was sobbing. And Katara, with a glowing blob of water, doing what had become commonplace between them: healing wounds that had been a result of someone trying to kill him.

“You’re crying,” Zuko teased, however weakly. “I knew you kinda cared about me…”

“Shut up,” Katara laughed tearfully. “What matters is that you’re breathing,” she mumbled, keeping her hands planted firmly on his chest. “Sokka would have killed me if I actually let you die saving me. It was the one thing he asked me not to do.”

“Bastard knows me too well,” he muttered. “Can I close my eyes, or will I die? I would really like to close my eyes…”

“No, keep them open,” she urged gently. “We’ll get you to a hospital—wherever that might be—”

“The castle has an infirmary,” he mumbled. “If Azula didn’t banish everyone in there… there’s still medical supplies, if she did. I trust you,” he sighed. She smiled at that last sentiment, nodding.

“Well, let’s get you up and walking, and then we can deal with Azula.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For not killing her.”

“I don't think I could,” she shrugged. “Now hush, you're making this harder.” Zuko shut up, tilting his head back to stare at the flames that covered the area he had once considered the site of his biggest failure—as a son, as a prince, as a person. Now, arguably, it was home to his greatest triumph: besting his sister, reinstating his title, _finally _earning the approval of his boyfriend’s sister.__

The cool water retracted from his wound after a bit. “I think you’re good enough to walk,” she murmured. “Not like you haven't walked off worse.” He clasped her hand, slowly sitting up, shakily rising to his feet.

He stared at his sister for a few moments, and, against what Katara would have preferred, began limping towards her. He could hear her protesting, feel her grab at his jacket, but he kept going, until he stood before Azula. She was sobbing blue flames—it was all she could do, chained and locked in. Zuko wordlessly knelt down before her, easily bending away whatever flame she spat at him.

He wrapped his arms around her firmly, holding her to his chest. After a few moments, she stopped struggling, stopped fighting, and just broke down, her head tucked in Zuko’s shoulder. “Why don't you just kill me?!” She sobbed. “You won!”

“Because you’re my sister,” he explained calmly, even if he was still buzzing with her lethal attack. “You're my sister, and I love you, and you don't deserve to die,” he whispered, feeling her finally relax. “You aren't evil,” he murmured. “You're just doing what he taught you. Katara’s gonna take me inside and heal me all up, and then we can watch _Ponyo _, okay? I'll send someone to get you.”__

“Okay,” she hiccuped, nodding weakly.

“And we’re gonna figure out how to fix your hair,” he teased, slowly pushing himself to stand up. She flinched as she watched, her mind suddenly comprehending that _she did that. She struck him with intent to kill. She had tried to kill the Fire Lord. _Had that Fire Lord been her father, hell, if it had been her, she would be dead in the blink of an eye, maybe banished, just like Zuko.__

But it wasn't the man who masqueraded as a loving father, it wasn't the man who played so many mind games that she cracked—it was her brother, and he _got it _. He was unreasonably banished for treason, and here she was, after she had done something much worse, and he just gave her a hug and the promise of a movie. No marring burns, no cryptic warning of punishment, no, “You’re acting like your impetulant brother,” just understanding.__

That made her sob harder than the moment she realized she had lost.

Zuko passed out soon after he was given proper medication, and even if the infirmary’s bed wasn't at all comfortable, it was the best sleep he’d had in a while. When he woke up, Azula was there, too. She was restrained, her hands in cuffs, but the chain was long enough that she was able to sit comfortably. He blinked blearily, looking around for his bag. Katara had set it in the chair by his bed. He unzipped the main compartment to grab his tablet, but was met by the wooden mask he’d been hiding behind for so long now. He had forgotten to take his uniform out of his bag in his panic to board the ship. He found the rolled bundle of his gloves, retrieving those as well before sitting up.

“Az,” he called weakly, patting the spot beside her. She stared at him for a moment, but when she saw no trace of anger in his face, she joined him. He knew that paranoia so well, he knew exactly what she was thinking. It hit him, then, that he was just as scared of Ozai as he was. But she only had to look at how her brother was treated, and know that if she were better, it wouldn't happen to her. “Give me your hands,” he instructed.

She raised her wrists up to him, watching as he unrolled the gloves. “I'll get the shackles off you when I can,” he promised, gently fitting the gloves onto her fingers. “I wore these when I was first getting used to not lashing out. They're hard to bend in. So you only bend when you want to, and you don't hurt anyone on accident.” He took her hands in his own when they were on. “And they make you look cool,” he offered a gentle smile. She only nodded. He queued up the movie on his tablet, setting it in her hands. “Wait here for a sec.”

He rose to walk over to the cabinets, rifling through them until he found a pair of scissors. Not hair scissors, for sure, but the bent shears used for removing casts. They were sharp enough. He sat down beside her, gently turning her to look at him. He used his fingers to part the proper amount of hair and comb it forward, as he always did for Sokka whenever his hair got a little too long. He found the shortest point of her hackjob—just above her brow—and began trimming everything to a proper length to look like she didn't take fabric shears to her hair in a psychotic break. He tossed the longer hair in the trash, helping to dust the rest off of her face and top. “There you go.”

“I didn't know you knew how to cut hair,” she said, the first words she had managed since the fight.

“When I decided to go into hiding, I cut off my hair, and shaved my head with nothing but a lake as a mirror and my knife to cut my hair. Doesn't hurt that Sokka has me trim his every other week. He’s got a complex,” he chuckled, putting the scissors on the chair. “You learn a thing or two when you live with someone that vain.”

“Do you think he’s still alive?” She asked.

“I hope so,” he sighed, his voice wavering as he wrapped the two of them up in the sheet of the bed to watch the movie. “I have a feeling his friends wouldn't let him die, cause they would know I wouldn't ever stop brooding.”

“It’s such an anomaly that you and Mai didn't work out. You match each other so perfectly.”

“Sometimes you need someone to balance you out,” he mused. “You know, speaking of, I think there’s a girl on our team you'd get along well with. Her name’s Suki.”

“The girl from Kyoshi?”

“Yeah.”

“Last time I saw her, I was impersonating one of her warriors,” she deadpanned.

“I have a feeling she’ll forgive you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boy, did i cry writing this. I personally don't have a good relationship with any of my siblings, so I really just wanted to give them a happy moment 
> 
> And to anyone who is now curious, I'm the youngest of eight.


	23. Welcome Back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey I saw a dead body today so that was fun.

Unlike a royal war criminal and some random water bender, when you were the Avatar with an incapacitated Fire Lord Ozai, you got a free fasttrack with the fastest available route to the fire nation. No wallowing on a day’s long boat trip for the rest of the group, four hours, and they were there.

Katara was doing her best to explain everything concisely. “But—they’re in the infirmary, now, watching movies. Azula’s restrained. Just… consult Zuko on what to do with…” she vaguely gestured to the shuddering heap of former Fire Lord a few feet away. “That. I wouldn't bring him in, Azula is pretty delicate right now.”

“Of course,” Aang nodded. He seemed tired, but he had never sounded so awake. So happy. “Then, uh, we can talk after!” He rushed, turning to the others. “You guys keep an eye on him—a foot. I'll be back.” Toph grinned at the inclusion, swiftly imprisoning Ozai even further in shackles of earth as Aang ran off.

It took him a moment to locate the hospital wing, there was no staff to ask where to go. He eventually made it to a white door, stark contrast from the dark bronze and heady wood the others were made of. He turned the knob, sticking his head in. “Zuko?” He asked.

“Aang,” he hummed fondly, looking up from the screen. “You're alive. I would come hug you, but walking isn't my best friend at the moment.”

“It’s the thought that counts!” He assured, cheerful as ever. He stepped inside, forming his hands into the sign of the eternal flame and bowing. “Princess Azula.”

“Hm,” was all she offered, her eyes flickering up to his.

“So, I assume, you won the fight? He’s dead?”

Aang’s smile fell lopsided. “Weeellllll, yes, and no. Uh, he’s here.”

“He’s… he’s _what? _” Zuko quickly rose to his feet, his sister groaning at the sudden movement. “What do you mean, he’s here?!”__

“Ah! Chill, chill! He’s harmless. I took away his bending!”

This time, Azula looked up too, and the two of them stared in confusion. “That… is terrifying,” Zuko surmised.

“Remind me not to get any further on your bad side, Avatar,” Azula muttered.

“Aang is fine,” he replied immediately. “But, uh, thought I would consult you on what we’re doing with him. You know, being Fire Lord, and all…”

“Not quite,” Zuko sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Azzy, do you think you could come with us? I don't want you here alone.”

“I'm going to ignore that stab at my ego and just say yes,” Azula deadpanned, setting the tablet down after she turned it off. She rose to her feet, following the others out and through the winding hallways out to the courtyard, where everyone else stood. Surprisingly, Zuko didn’t react to Sokka first. No, he simply stopped a few feet away from his father, examining him closely.

“You look so small like this,” he remarked, making Ozai bristle.

“You will never have a fraction of the power I did over this nation.”

“Yeah, about that, at least I can bend.” He squatted down so he was on eye level with him. “The man who made my life a living hell, bested by a child. I've got half the mind to execute you immediately. But… I am more merciful than you. Or maybe that sadism you tried so hard to pound into me is finally rearing its ugly head, and I just want to see you rot in a cell for the rest of your miserable existence.”

“How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent little brat!” He snapped, tugging against his several layers of restraint.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” Zuko had to let a wicked grin grace his lips.

“Azula! Are you just going to let him act like this?!” Ozai barked.

Azula took a deep breath, rearing her indifference. “What was it you always said, father? _The word of the Fire Lord is law, all those who defy me will suffer a fate worse than death. _I don't exactly see it as my place to question his judgement.”__

“You're always going to question my judgement, Azzy, don't kid yourself,” Zuko chuckled, suddenly softening. “Suki, Toph, I assume you can handle taking him to the dungeons. And figure out where they are.”

“Of course we can, _Your Lordiness, _” Toph grinned, letting the Earth holding Ozai crumble.__

“Please never call me that again.”

“What are you gonna do about it? Cry? Piss your pants?”

“You know, any other Fire Lord would kill you for saying something like that.”

“As far as I can tell, you don't have a little dongle in your hair yet. Not like I'll stop calling you a rat bastard after your coronation,” she hummed, walking off after Suki.

Finally, _finally, _Zuko turned his attention towards Sokka, holding his arms out. Sokka bypassed the hug, going straight for a kiss that would have knocked him over if not for the hands on his hips. Zuko squealed, giggling against his lips.__

“You taste like lightning,” Sokka murmured, holding him close.

“I'm starting to think you've got a thing for it,” Zuko teased, reaching up to hold his face. “As much as I would love to make out—he chuckled as Sokka's lips made their way to his jaw. “I would love to take a nap even more.”

“Didn’t you just take a nap?” Sokka whined, picking him up by his waist. Zuko yelped, though it faded into a giggle.

“I got struck with lightning!” He chuckled, planting a kiss on the top of his head. “I would think everyone needs a nap right about now, Mr. _almost died falling off of an airship. _”__

“How did you know that?” He scoffed.

“Some kid on TikTok caught it,” he shrugged, grunting as he was placed back on his feet.

“Well,” Katara cut in. “It’s _your _castle, now. Are there guest rooms?”__

“I...guess it is,” he remarked. “Yeah, there are. Come on.”

-

_To Mr. and Mrs. Eraya Tanabe,  
I hope this letter finds you in good health, wealth, and spirits. I understand I have not been on contact as much as preferable lately, but I will force upon myself an excuse that I have not been in the situation to be able to sit down and write.  
I know enough that you still live in your house without debt. I'm unsure as to what income you could scrape together out of the stolen goods I permitted, but you're alive, and that’s what matters.  
I'd like to extend an informal invitation to you, and your family, to rejoin us at the palace. While you are welcome to resume your work as my personal attendant, it is not necessary. You have done quite enough in the short few months of my reinstatement to warrant a roof over your head when we have so many extra rooms and food.  
I eagerly await your response—while you don't have to come back, I would quite enjoy your presence. Should you refuse, I will send funds to live until you are reemployed elsewhere.  
If nothing else, we should have tea some time. I would love to meet your family.  
Your friend,  
Fire Lord Zuko._

As Zuko drizzled shimmering wax over the scroll’s edge, he felt cool lips on the back of his neck, and then Sokka’s arms drawing around his shoulders. “Shouldn't you wait to sign things as Fire Lord until _after _your coronation?” He teased.__

“She’ll get it far after my coronation. Hopefully not too long,” he hummed.

“What was the letter about?”

“I was inviting back my personal attendant. I fired her before she left so she wouldn't get in trouble with my dad. I didn't want her to be associated with a traitor.”

“Traitor,” he chuckled. “You’re the ruler, now.”

“As of tomorrow morning,” he reminded. “Get to bed, I’ll be there soon,” he promised, tilting his head up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Whatever you say, your highness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was seriously considering leaving this as the last chapter, and splitting the coronation and its proceeding events in a new otw as a series. I decided I would consult you all. So, tell me, should I keep going here, or split it into a series? After all, the story would change quite a bit, moving to a modern adaptation of postcanon with Azula's inclusion, as well as the events preceding a special Royal Prince Consort....


End file.
